


What the Night Knows

by aliceecrivain



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: (only in subtext), Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Biting, Charles is a Vampire, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Gothic, Introspection, M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Resolved Sexual Tension, Supernatural Elements, Switching, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 111,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliceecrivain/pseuds/aliceecrivain
Summary: One dark and rainy night a visitor washes up on Erik’s doorstep. Disregarding his own common sense, he brings the stranger inside, not quite willing to part with him even after the storm has ceased. Soon enough, their attraction becomes evident and they find they must choose between parting for good, sacrificing dearly for the sake of self-preservation, or tossing caution aside and running toward it, regardless of the dark secrets both of them hold close to their hearts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One time, when listening to an interview Monster Dad, Guillermo del Toro, gave talking about how he portrays monsters and specifically the idea of love stories containing monsters he had a quote that I liked a lot: “Love is understanding, not transformation.”
> 
> It was about Beauty and the Beast stories in particular and about how usually the monster must change in order to be worthy of acceptance and love. It just struck me as something to think about and remember even past awards season.
> 
> Anyway, this is a silly vampire story I wrote because it was raining one night and the ~mood~ struck. Technically it’s inspired by Jane Eyre and Twilight (also, less so, but Pride and Prejudice) and borrows a bit from both but actually ended up resembling neither in whole. It’s also a pretty long ride, so strap in and get comfortable.
> 
> There are definitely other vampire/x-men stories out there but I just never happened to come across/read any when I was wandering my way through the archive. Therefore, any elements of this story that are similar to another fic are 100% coincidental, just to put it out there since monster fics are pretty common in my experience.

It was a gloomy, storm-ridden night when the boy arrived. Or maybe arrived was the wrong word. It was more like he’d blown in alongside the wild gusts of wind hammering away at the manor’s ancient stone walls. No progress was made on that front: this place was much too sturdy to be done in by a spring downpour. The visitor, on the other hand, more clever than the elements, found a better route in.

The dreariness of the weather had been enough to chase even Erik back away from the windows and in toward the hearth, for the sake of its light and warmth. Usually he enjoyed the nighttime, quiet and mellow as it often was so far out into the countryside, but the winds were unforgiving that night and he had no desire to go up against them. Better to let the sky rage on as it would and exhaust itself in the midst of its fit. There would be other nights to go out walking.

Still, through the buffeting rain and winds, he managed to hear the banging on his door. He excused it the first couple of times. Erik lived a purposefully secluded life so to have someone show up unannounced was almost unheard of. There was the occasional stray traveler, confused by the monotony of the land all around, but there could surely be no one out at a time like this, on a night so saturated that the shadowy ink of the sky pooled out to cover even the brightest of stars.

But the knocking was insistent and Erik became concerned that a tree might have fallen and was making a racket up against the door. Better to deal with it now, he supposed, than lose a night of sleep to the noise.

So he hefted himself up out of the safe haven of his chair, away from the ember embrace of the fire, off toward the front of his home. The noise against the door did not deplete as he grew closer which was reassuring if only because it meant he hadn’t gotten up for nothing. When he reached the great wooden stretch of the entrance, he was careful with the process of opening it up.

Maybe it was paranoia, but there was something strange about this night. Erik had pressed the feeling down before, content with the excuse the storm gave to huddle into the heart of the manor to last it, but it was back now, so he remained on his guard. False suspicion or not, his instincts were rarely wrong. He tensed when the doors finally blew open, allowing the storm to breach into the foyer and off through his halls, but he did not find anything dangerous. Only something odd.

He did not even see the boy at first, so small was he, curled up against the stoop in an attempt to fend off the elements, but after a quick scan across the shadow-strewn horizon, Erik’s eyes drifted down and he became aware of his presence.

The boy was shivering from the cold and the rain, so small beneath him that he hardly took a second to think before he was stooping down and gathering him up to drag him inside to safety. Even Erik’s heart was not so hardened as to not feel pity for such a creature, so tiny and frail, looking half like he might be swept away into the river if left for another moment. The boy was light in his arms and Erik thought he felt fragile as porcelain, terribly easy to break if he was handled too roughly.

He stood, clutching the boy close, looking out into the fury of the elements once more out of instinct before he shut the door, encapsulating them within the refuge of the familiar stone walls. The noise had drawn one of the few staff he kept from her bed, but he waved her off, bidding her go back to sleep. He didn’t feel like being bothered, confident he could handle this on his own.

She went off and Erik retreated back to the hearth with the bundle in his arms.

The boy was shivering, quaking quietly in his grip, but Erik took that to be a good sign. Better to be shivering than still. He didn’t put up any resistance against Erik’s hold, completely limp in his arms. He did turn toward the fire once they got close enough. That too was encouraging.

Erik knelt down before the grate and heard the boy take small gasp of air, shuddering like the rest of him but audible. Although he was a bit loath to move him, this could only progress if Erik got a better grasp of the situation. Right now his mind was racing and the freezing water from the boy’s skin and cloak was soaking into Erik’s own clothes and he was determined to put some logic to this.

Moving gently, he rearranged the small creature so it was upright at the very least, out of Erik’s lap onto the sturdy hold of the floor. It was not long before he was being fixed with an eerily bright gaze, two eyes gleaming like gemstones, incandescent as a full moon staring right back at him. Erik was frozen for a long moment, half-bewitched by the sight of such lively color in the midst of such a night, but eventually managed to wrench himself free by looking the boy over further.

He looked scared, which was perhaps to be expected, but not overly so. His gaze was wary more than it was filled with terror and he did not flinch back from Erik. Too cold, maybe, or the boy was smart enough to know that staying put could sometimes be the better choice. His skin was pale, translucent almost, doused as it was. Trails of water dripped down his face from the brown, twisted mess of his hair, over the soft edge of his jaw, down the line of his neck. Erik’s eyes followed that same path and he found that despite the dark, warm cloak the boy that hugged the boy’s shoulders which was made of decent material and would probably have sold for a good price, the boy was not well-dressed. He looked like a farmer’s boy, tattered edges and worn-out knickers.

Despite the cold and the blanch of his skin, his lips, Erik noticed, were still strangely red, another splash of color on his face. He also saw that perhaps the boy was not so young as he had first thought. Small, yes, but most people were small compared to Erik. Erik could not know his age for certain but he suspected it to be upward of fifteen years.

What a strange creature he had found on his stoop, hardly there, frail under the false bulk of the cloak, but not backing down or turning away from Erik’s inspection. He could almost be beautiful, Erik thought, with his fine features and intelligent eyes—

That, Erik decided, was far enough. He righted the track of his thoughts to the situation at hand. The boy beat him to words, however.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, voice firmer than Erik might have expected. He moved finally, wrapping the cloak more tightly around himself, though Erik doubted how much good that would do, soaked through as it was. “I thought I would die out there in the cold and the rain.”

Erik blinked, surprised by how concise he was, considering just a moment ago he’d seemed close to death. He cleared his throat, however, determined to stay in control of this situation. This was his house, after all. “Think nothing of it. What were you doing out in the first place on a night like this? Where did you come from? There is nothing for miles around.”

At that, the boy ducked his head for the first time. Erik frowned, unsure why now of all times he was hiding his face. Apparently it was in place of an answer since none came. Erik’s frown deepened, displeased by the lack of the response. Very rarely did one not speak the truth if they were possession of it. The boy might seem small and weak, but Erik reminded himself that this was a stranger in his home and looks often did little to illuminate intent or true character.

“Speak, boy,” he demanded, going as far as to reach out and turn him toward him again. “Tell me your business or you’ll be back out in the rain. Your presence here relies solely on my pity and the extent of my patience which grows thinner the longer you hold your tongue.”

The boy struggled against his grip now, shrinking in on himself and some guilt scraped up against the inside of Erik’s chest. He pushed it right back however, uninterested in it at the moment. He was not hurting him in any way and the threat was mostly facsimile. He might kick the boy out but he would at least wait until morning to do it.

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispered. “I am very tired. I have been walking for days and yours is the first home I came across.”

Erik sighed, releasing him. That earned him the boy’s gaze again, almost surprised by the concession. Erik raised an eyebrow at him, sizing him up once more. “Where are you headed?”

The boy looked uncertain which further bolstered Erik’s suspicions. Although he knew not what sort of trouble such a small creature could be involved in, he had no doubt that there could be something. There was trouble enough for all out in the world, Erik knew that well enough.

“Nowhere in particular,” the boy finally said and then continued quickly, apparently sensing that the answer was hardly enough to please Erik. “That is to say I was looking for work, so I would have stopped at the door of whoever was willing to take me or walked until I found a willing employer.”

“Not many people would take up a vagabond going door to door begging for employment,” Erik pointed out, watching the orange reflection of the flames skirt along the boy’s face. “You would be better off in a city if you are looking for work. Most out in the country require some form of application or connections.”

The boy’s eyes flicked away, down into the fire. Something flashed across his face that Erik couldn’t decipher. “I had not known,” the boy admitted after a short pause.

Erik took it to be the truth after a moment’s consideration. He was slowly fitting pieces together in his mind, imagining the likely scenario. After a while it was easy enough to see how every person fit into some category no matter how diverse they first appeared. Given what he had told Erik, the boy was probably an orphan. Poor parents, uneducated, did not teach him much of the world, left him to fend for himself, and so he had set off to try but done so with the ignorance of youth and circumstance.

Erik sighed and sat back, giving the boy some space. He’d try to get the story out of him to confirm, but it fit well enough. “Do you have a name at least?”

The boy turned back to him, face disarmingly open. “Charles.”

Erik clenched his teeth and went to stand. “Stay there. I’ll return shortly.”

The boy nodded and stayed hunched by the fire, so small below Erik once more. Erik turned and hurried off. While he went about gathering this and that to aid his guest, Erik sought to pull himself together and to think of what he wanted to do next.

When he returned the boy was where he had left him, turned toward the fire, warming his hands. He turned when Erik approached, even offering him a small, hesitant smile. Erik’s thoughts scattered again and he cursed himself for it.

“Here,” he said, focusing on the task at hand. He knelt again to hand the boy the towel he had brought and then the hot tea.

Charles—Erik reminded himself of his name as he’d been given it—took both and gifted him yet another small curl of his lips. “Thank you.”

Erik ducked his head, uncomfortable with what he was being given in return. “You would be better off removing your cloak. It is warm in here and keeping it on will only prolong your chill.”

Charles nodded, setting down the tea and obeying without a thought, shucking his cloak and setting it to the side. He reached for the towel afterward, moving to dry off some.

Erik was wondering what to ask him next when he spoke first once more, catching Erik off guard as before. “You have not told me your name,” he pointed out, rubbing the water from his hair.

It was true, but not a mistake. Erik was not one to give something like a name away so easily. “Sir will do for a single night’s stay.”

Strangely the boy frowned, seeming disappointed although Erik couldn’t imagine why. “You will let me stay the night then?” he asked, moving on quickly enough from the slight.

“I’m not going to throw you back out in the storm,” Erik pointed out, a little offended considering how good he had been to this boy thus far while expecting little to nothing in return.

Charles looked sideways at him. “You sound like I suggested something outrageous but only a short while ago you were threatening to do just that.”

Erik clenched his teeth and the boy looked proud of himself for having said something clever. He did not, Erik thought, speak much like a poor boy, nor did he act like a servant. Either his youth made him foolish enough to not fear saying such a thing to someone in a higher position of power than himself or Erik’s first guess had been off.

“You may stay the night,” Erik told him, voice firm. Although he wanted to learn more, if the boy was unwilling to talk openly, there wasn’t much point in wasting his time, especially if he would be gone soon enough anyway. “Tomorrow morning I will give you directions and let you be on your way.”

Charles opened his mouth, almost as if to protest, but thought better of it. He pressed his lips together and looked down at his knees. Slowly, he nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Erik stood again rather than responding. “Come,” he beckoned. “Can you stand?”

Charles could, shakily, but well enough. He gathered up his soggy cloak and clutched it close to himself. Erik did not try to pry it from him, for he seemed to have little else in the world. He turned to Erik for further instruction so Erik led on, off down a hallway to one of the nearby rooms.

Charles followed, wet footsteps echoing his own down the dark passageway. There was usually no need to light it but for tonight Erik sacrificed the necessary matches. Erik showed Charles to an empty room and beckoned him inside.

“You may stay here tonight. Use the bath if you’d like, use this kettle,” Erik told him, following after him to light the smaller hearth and illuminate the space. “I would ask you not to venture around the rest of the house.”

“Why?” Charles asked, turning from where he’d been spinning, surveying the space. It was not a very impressive room but Erik supposed it might be enough to excite a poor boy. “Full of ghosts, is it?”

Erik bit back a strongly-worded response about snooping around other people’s houses when Charles gave him a cheeky smile and walked back toward him, closer than Erik would have expected him to come. Erik stood his ground even as part of him yearned to step back.

“I will do as you say,” Charles murmured. “Thank you again, sir, for your kindness. I am forever in your debt.”

Erik scoffed at him. “Do not burden yourself with such grand declarations. They will seldom get you far in life.”

Charles raised his eyebrows slightly but didn’t respond beyond that.

Erik decided he ought to leave the boy to it. “I’ll fetch you in the morning to send you on your way.”

“Of course,” Charles agreed. Something glimmered in his eyes, darker than before. Erik knew not what it was, but excused it as a trick of the light, shadows in his mind from the uneasy atmosphere of the night.

Erik left him then, shut him up in the room and went back down the hallway to the hearth. The wind howled, the storm no less persistent than it had been an hour earlier, and Erik again felt uneasiness like a chill down his spine. He almost didn’t want to leave the boy alone as he had, but he forced himself to walk on, sit back down in his chair.

The night would pass, and so would the storm, and so would Charles. Most things passed out here, and the few that stayed were not usually better for it.

Erik shook himself away from those thoughts. Dark thoughts for a strange night.

In the end, he could not bring himself to head to bed, staying awake through the night, unable to let down his guard, and if he felt eyes on him through the night he excused them for some of Charles’s ghosts. As long as they kept their distance, he thought, he would leave them to roam in peace. His qualms were not with the dead.

**

The man did not go to sleep which was strange, if not totally surprising.

He was different, this one. Familiar somehow, but alien. Charles did not keep his promise to stay in the room. This house was too grand and interesting to not explore it while he had the chance and he kept an eye on its master meanwhile, curious to see if he would give in to sleep eventually or not. It was a large place, full of many twists and turns, stairs and rooms and windows. Charles thought its furthest corners might remain forever unknown due to its size and the ancient quality of it.

The man did not sleep and he did not come to check on Charles which was just as well. It left them at something of a standstill, but a peaceful one. Charles was not in any mood to be caught.

Not everything went as planned, Charles supposed. Part of him was almost glad for it. Eventually he returned to his room, conceding, and made use of bath and the soft robe and the fine sheets. It was still deluging outside. Charles could hear the rain on the enormous building’s roof and walls. He was glad not to be out in it any longer either way.

He wondered who this man was who had taken him inside. He seemed to be alone for Charles had seen no one else during his time in the castle and he lived so far from civilization as to be completely unknown. It made him curious. Why stay up? What had he seen in his life to make him so wary? He had seemed unkind more than once while speaking to Charles, but had taken him inside, carrying him to the fire, offering him shelter without a second thought.

Charles doubted he would get the chance to know, but the part of him that always yearned for knowledge in any form wished he would. There was something to the stern, silvery-blue of his eyes, something in the way he’d been looking at Charles. Charles hated to let it go so soon.

Well, he would have a chance in the morning to try his luck further. It would not kill him to be patient for a change. In the meantime he left his clothes out to dry and sat listening to the rain, letting the night take its course.

**

The downside of staying up all night was that Erik’s patience was not exactly at its height early in the morning when he went to call upon Charles. He wanted the boy out, he had decided. The rain had gone, as well as the night, forced back by the authoritative glare of sunrise, and this last bit of that odd night would leave him too now, sooner rather than later. Then, perhaps, he would be able to find rest.

He knocked on Charles’s door before he entered, but the boy did not rouse from where he was laying in the bed, seemingly undressed if the clothes strewn about were anything to go off of, the blinds on the window firmly closed. Erik was not sure exactly how to rouse a sleeping boy, so he settled on calling his name. “Charles. It’s morning.”

Charles awoke soon after, sitting up, but staying curled in the bed, probably as aware of his state of undress as Erik was. He blinked, already bright-eyed. “Is the rain gone?”

“The rain is gone,” Erik nodded. “And I would have you gone as well. Dress. I will wait in the hall.”

Charles was quick enough, did not dawdle which Erik appreciated. Soon enough he was stepping out in the hallway before Erik, no less lovely in the day than he’d been in the night. He kept his cloak slung over one arm and his head down.

Part of Erik hated to be rid of him, but the rest knew that was more than enough to reason to send him on his way.

“Is there any particular direction you would like to head in?” Erik asked. “I know these lands well, better than most. If you have a place in mind I might be able to help you get to it.”

Charles shook his head. “As I said, I’ve no direction in particular that suits me better than any other.”

Erik frowned, thinking the boy foolish for not taking the aid but unwilling to push him if his mind was set. “Very well. Come along.”

“Wait!”

Erik stopped in his tracks from where he’d been ready to stride off down the hall, straight to the front door. When he turned Charles was looking at him, his eyebrows pulled together. Erik squinted, suspicious.

“Have you no need of a worker, sir?” Charles asked, hesitant again. “Your estate is very large and I have noticed you do not keep much help around. Could you not make use of me?”

Erik pressed his lips together, caught off guard perhaps more than he should have been, but it had been a long night. He should have expected Charles to ask at some point or another. Why would he not? That was his whole purpose in life, to find work.

Erik couldn’t help but consider it, but he was not so sure about keeping this boy around. He did not know why exactly, but he was not certain it was such a good idea. The hunch was strong enough that Erik was quick to deny him. “What do I know of you? You will tell me nothing of who you are or where you are from. I have no cause to believe you will be worth keeping around. Moreover, you are only a boy. If I wanted an extra hand, I would at least be wise enough to hire a man. I’ll not keep you here out of pity. I told you as much last night. I have done you enough service already.”

The boy flinched back as if struck and his face crumpled. Erik clamped down on any hurt it might have caused him to see it. Charles would not last very long if a few harsh truths wounded him so.

The downtrodden expression did not last long. This time, it seemed, Charles was unwilling to back down so easily. He tilted his chin up at Erik, looked him in the eyes and Erik could not help but be impressed by his courage. “As you said, sir, you know little of who I am. Therefore you know not that I am a hard worker, well worth whatever you’d pay me. You know not of my age. I am not sure how young you take me for but I have more than twenty years to my name, a man as much as you are. And if you took me on, you would certainly come to know me in time if you were still interested in such a topic.”

Erik’s eyebrows rose unbidden by the reply. Charles stood his ground as Erik considered his words. Part of him was offended by such a smart response, but it was a fleeting feeling. Erik was surprised to hear of his age, and slightly doubtful, although he supposed he had never had much of an eye for that sort of thing. In some ways it was a relief to know that some of the things his mind had been whispering to him were not quite so unforgivable.

He considered Charles again. He was not one to take people off the street and let them into his home for many reasons, most of which were simple common sense. Still, part of him ached to keep this boy—or man, rather—around yet. It was a foolish thought, not at all what had kept him alive thus far, but it was strong, beating in his chest, insistent as last night’s deluge.

Still, he fought back against it, not willing to give in so easily. “What you say may be true,” he offered, “but I am not taken to charity. You did not even have enough sense to keep yourself out of that storm.”

Charles had enough grace to look a little ashamed, but not even that would crush him completely. He stood up straighter, not doing much against Erik’s own height but trying nonetheless to assert himself. “In that case, give me a chance to prove myself, I entreat you. Give me a task, whatever you wish, and you can judge my work for yourself. If you still find me unworthy, then I will go without another word. That I promise you.”

Erik could not believe this young man, standing before him, nothing to his name, no money, no title, no prospects, small enough for Erik to heft over his shoulder with little to no effort, giving ultimatums. But Charles set his jaw and waited for Erik’s answer same as if they were equals, and Erik couldn’t help but concede for the moment. He had a feeling Charles would not leave him alone until he gave him the chance to play this little game.

He would at least get some free labor from it, good or not, Erik supposed. He held his silence longer than necessary for the sake of gaining back some ground, then nodded. “Very well. There is a plot of yard around back I’ve been meaning to clear. It should come up easily after last night’s rain. Do what you will with it. I will come at sunset to see what has been done.”

Charles perked up, brightening at once, far too eager. “Of course. If you would be so kind as to show me to it, I will get started at once. I am certain you’ll find my work to your taste.”

Erik scowled at the boy’s choice of diction, but didn’t dwell on it. “We will see soon enough. Come along.”

Erik took him over to a window on the west side of the house and pointed to where some of the tools were kept as well as the mismanaged plot. Charles nodded, studious in his listening at least when he was not talking. He slung his large cloak back on and hurried to it when Erik sent him off. When Erik peered out the window at him, out across the green sea below, he _was_ hard at work, flitting around like a bumblebee in the grey haze of the day.

The thought that he might do a good job was conflicting. It would not hurt Erik in the least to hire Charles. He was hardly lacking for money to throw around. It would make it so the boy was not wandering around in the rain on his own any longer. Erik could admit that the thought weighed on his conscious some. He hardly thought of himself as kind, but there were people out there far worse than him. He felt somewhat protective of the young man in spite of himself.

Still, he wasn’t sure it would do him much good to keep him around. It would be hell on his nerves, that much Erik knew. Many of Erik’s personal proclivities were far from socially acceptable which was part of the reason he lived in a castle in the middle of nowhere with three people on staff at any given time all of whom were free to leave when they wished, as often as they wished in exchange for their confidence and ability to keep to themselves.

Erik had a feeling that Charles was not the sort to keep to himself. He also had a feeling that one of said proclivities might be exacerbated with him around constantly.

In the end, all Erik could do was wait. The fair thing to do would be to judge Charles honestly on his work, so that was what he would keep to. His mind was restless all day even as he tried to sit and work on his studies, unsure which outcome would be preferable, and he ended up getting next to nothing done. The sun traveled slowly around the floor of his study, unperturbed as ever, though and soon it was time for him to go outside and fetch Charles.

The sun was lower than he had meant for it to be, down on the horizon, dark as the inside of a pomegranate. Charles was still working, not as quickly as before, but steadily, dragging long lines in the still-moist earth, straight and sure. The plot looked much better than it had before, that much was certain. Charles had weeded it, cleared the rocks, smoothed it out, and now was preparing it to be planted. A good day’s work by anyone’s standards, Erik thought.

Charles straightened when Erik walked out to him. He did not look as tired as Erik thought he might, his brow not sweaty from the labor. He did not immediately demand a response from Erik like he thought he might, so Erik didn’t keep him long in suspense. “Come inside,” he beckoned, and Charles went.

There was nothing to do but follow through with what he had decided, Erik knew, so once they were both out of the night’s seeping chill, he turned to face Charles. “You did well enough,” he said, careful not to compliment him too readily. Young men tended to blow compliments out of proportion as it was. “I will offer you a position here if you are still interested.”

Charles’s eyes lit up, but still he stayed contained which was impressive to Erik considering his earlier state. “Of course. Thank you, sir. I am glad my work was satisfactory. I would be happy to work here for as long as you will keep me.”

 _Keep me_. Erik wondered if Charles knew how he sounded sometimes. “Wash up and we will discuss your payment and the other details.”

Charles nodded, but did not move quite yet. Erik was still wondering what he had gotten himself into, so it took him a moment to notice.

“Yes?” he prompted when he did.

“Might I know your name now?” Charles asked. “Since I will be staying here for some time.” A small smile appeared again on Charles’s lips and Erik thought it couldn’t be entirely innocuous. “Unless you prefer sir.”

Erik shot him a look which was enough to force his mouth back into something more respectful-looking. “It’s Lehnsherr,” he told him. “But you should mind your mouth, boy.”

“Yes, Mr. Lehnsherr,” Charles said, not seeming too apologetic, heading off to his room before Erik could say anything else.

Erik sighed, leaning up against the wall behind him. _What have you gotten yourself into now?_ Erik decided that he should start coming up with a list of things for Charles to do as soon as possible. Best to keep him occupied and away from Erik until he could…acclimate. He forced himself to remember that, twenty years or not, Charles was still a young man and overconfident because of it. He would fall into place in time. It was nothing more than youth driving his words and jests.

Nothing more, he insisted, nothing more.

**

Lehnsherr watched Charles throughout the rest of the week often, although he spoke to him seemingly as little as possible. Charles would often feel his eyes on his back through the window of what Charles assumed was his study, could look up and catch glimpses of him there. Concern for a new employee or, Charles thought, something more.

He couldn’t be sure. Lehnsherr was a well-guarded man which Charles could respect although it made things a bit more challenging for him. He was glad to have been allowed to stay. One door closes where another one opens, he supposed. That was one thing he had always found to be true throughout his life where others were not.

Another was that employers do not look at their employees the way Lehnsherr sometimes looked at him.

That one was newer to him, but he felt it must be true. There were a few other people in Lehnsherr’s employ: an older woman, another man, and a young woman. They kept to themselves as well, but they were friendly enough to Charles when he greeted them. Still, Lehnsherr didn’t seem to watch them the way he watched Charles.

Charles did not mind it, admittedly. He thought it might be the reason for the distance Lehnsherr was putting between them, which wasn’t much to his taste. There was something else there too, however, which Charles could not put even a theoretical name to and that he shared with the other servants. All he could do was observe his new employer and learn what he could from afar.

Lehnsherr was a solitary man. He spent most days—and nights—in his study, and for the most part Charles let him be. At this point, he thought that would be better. It would not kill him, although he wanted to be closer. He wanted to talk with him again, learn more—or anything, frankly—about him. He was kinder when his guard was down, put up walls with his words and his demeanor when it wasn’t.

He was not as frightening as he came off as sometimes. Tall, broad-shouldered, stern, sure, and that did most of the work for him, but there was a man underneath that as there was under most façades. He was also very lenient about what his employees did at night, letting all of them off after sunset and not expecting them up until sunrise. The other servants read, talked, drank, drew, anything to occupy their time. Charles mostly wandered the castle, unsure what to do with all the free time on his hands.

Wandering was a good way to quell the restlessness in his bones that urged him to stop idling already and a good way to run into Lehnsherr himself. He wandered too, Charles knew, wandered the manor after sunset, looking out the windows at the expanse of the night. Charles looked too, missed it sometimes even.

In the meantime, he worked, did his job as well as he could. He didn’t mind the manual labor. It was good to be working outside although it presented some challenges. He did lack for company although that he was used to. He had made his peace with it a while ago as best he could, although that did not mean he liked it.

Charles was wandering again, running his hand along the cool walls. His stomach was complaining, but he ignored it, not interested in its pleas at the moment. Down at the end of the hall was a tall window that gave a good view of the nearby forest and he headed that way. There was quite a bit of light streaming in from the moon. It would be full again soon enough, the passing of another month, and it left silver streams on the floor for him to step across as he approached.

He was soon rewarded for his path as he found Lehnsherr right around the corner leaning up against the wall, staring out the window with strange apprehension on his face. “Mr. Lehnsherr,” Charles called, announcing himself. “Good evening.”

Lehnsherr took a moment to snap out of whatever train of thought he’d been absorbed in and turned to blink at Charles. “Charles. Did you need something?”

“No.” Charles stepped up next to Lehnsherr, standing beside him, looking out the window too, considering the stars above. “I just enjoy walking around at night since there is not much else for me to do.”

“I see.”

“Is that alright?” Charles turned toward him again, unwilling to let the conversation die so easily. “I know you did not want me wandering that first night.”

“You are free to go where you wish,” Lehnsherr told him automatically, turning to face him properly. “I would prefer you stay out of my study if I am not there, and out of anyone’s chambers without their permission, but aside from that, I do not see what good it would do to forbid my employees from areas of the castle.”

Charles considered that. “You are very lenient with us. I’ve heard the others say you let them leave as they wish for as long as several fortnights so long as they give you warning.”

Lehnsherr cocked an eyebrow at him, more absorbed in their conversation now. Charles was glad for it. “I keep help because it is necessary, not for someone to lord over.”

“Really?” Charles asked, unsure about that. He had met few men born into wealth that did not feel it was their duty in life to lord over others as a result, but perhaps Lehnsherr really did feel that way. Charles did not see the point in him lying. “If I were rich I would keep help to lord over them. I think it could be amusing.” It wasn’t true but he thought it would get a reaction out of the other man.

It did. Lehnsherr frowned at him. “That is not something to aspire to.”

Charles hid a frown. This was the result of his efforts to speak to Lehnsherr half the time: given odd snippets of advice like he was a child. It was a shame, really, that he had made that mistake early on. Charles was not much for condescension.

“I was only kidding,” he pointed out. “If I were really in your situation, I think I would leave this place behind and travel. I dislike the thought of being tied to one place. Leave this sort of castle and it will keep itself for centuries.”

Lehnsherr looked at him, calculating, his eyes like a calm lake in winter. “I have travelled some, but I do feel a duty to watch over this place.”

Charles wanted to ask why but he supposed that would be too direct. The man wasn’t much for straight-forward prying, nor was he prone to long answers if he could help it. Charles had to be clever with his words, which he did not necessarily mind. It was amusing, if nothing else. “Do you plan to pass it on someday?”

Charles did not know if Lehnsherr had relatives, but he sort of doubted it. He thought there was no reason why they wouldn’t be living here if he did. Still, he wondered. No wife? No children? No company? Even a solitary man had to have someone to call friend. It was impossible to get through life without knowing others one way or another, unless the avoidance was purposeful. But if so, why? Charles wondered if he would ever know.

Lehnsherr looked away from him, disliking the question perhaps, back out through the window into the night. “I will look after it until my life is done. What comes after that is yet to be seen.”

Stranger yet. Charles wondered what his attachment to the place was. Perhaps a family home? He thought maybe it would be best to move on to another subject. “It is a lovely night out,” he commented. “I walked the grounds once and it was very peaceful.”

That caught Lehnsherr’s attention again. “At night?”

“Yes?” Charles was unsure what he had done wrong, but Lehnsherr seemed concerned. “Was that wrong of me?”

“I would ask you to be careful walking the grounds at night is all,” he replied, his expression forcefully closed off. “I should have told you that before.”

“There is no one around for miles,” Charles pointed out, unconcerned for himself, but wanting to know why the other man was so nervous. “Is it truly so dangerous?”

There was a pause before Lehnsherr answered that was rather full. “It is because we are isolated out here. There are many animals around, some kinder than others, and many of which come out at night. I have had some incidents before with injuries because of them. It is safer to stay inside when possible.”

Ah. Charles supposed that made sense. “I understand.” It wouldn’t stop him from walking, but he would be quiet about it from now on. No need to worry the man. “I suppose a great many strange things hide in those woods.”

Lehnsherr stayed silent so Charles continued on, unsure how true or false his words were. “Faeries, and spirits, and little green men. Maybe even monsters. I walked that way, you know, when I first came here, and I did not see any, but that does not mean they were not there.”

Lehnsherr was looking at him again, one of his long, considering gazes. Charles could not help but lavish in the attention somewhat. “Perhaps,” was all he eventually offered but Charles could see him thinking about it and that was more than enough of a victory for him.

He was not bid to leave after that so he stayed and stood and the two of them looked out at the night together, out into the woods, minds twisting in tandem about what might lurk within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> secret unlockable second summary: It Was a Graveyard Smash


	2. Chapter 2

Charles sought him out. At first Erik thought it was coincidental but it soon became clear that it was on purpose. Erik didn’t know what to make of it. Perhaps Charles was bored and when he tired of the other help he sought out Erik for some diversity in conversation. It was true that those so young don’t usually do well tied to one place. His dreams of traveling were not rare in the least.

Erik had told him, as he told all in his employ, that they were free to go whenever they wished. He would help them get back to a town if they felt the need to move on. But Charles stayed. Charles stayed and Charles sought him out. Charles walked with him, talked with him, until Erik sent him on his way. It was mostly at night when everyone was roaming the castle, cohabitating. The only reprieve was in his study and even that Charles had breached more than once.

Erik did seek to keep him out of the space as best he could, but, much like keeping Charles out of his mind, there was only so much he could do.

It did mean that his efforts to put distance between them were pointless. Weeks passed and things did not settle. Charles was still Charles, prone to saying things he mostly likely did not mean, unaware of the effect they had on Erik. He was still beautiful, and smart, Erik learned. Intelligent and sharp-tongued when Erik let him get away with it. Strange in some ways, prone to daydreaming. He spoke of forest creatures and ghosts like they were fact which was a little alarming, but Erik tried not to think of it too much. Better to let the boy have his flights of fancy while he could.

Charles gave very little up about himself, Erik noticed, or at least about his past.

“Have you no family that will miss you all the way out here?” Erik had asked him one day, off-hand as he could manage, attempting to bury it beneath the guise of a desire to kill the lull in their conversation.

Charles’s expression remained unreadable and slowly he shook his head. “It does not matter much if I do or if I don’t. I am here to work and no one can blame me for that.” He did not seem inclined to continue so as to actually answer Erik’s question. “What of you? You live alone, do you not?”

That was much of the issue of asking Charles anything personal. He was excellent at sidestepping the question, giving a half-answer that was suitable only upon first-glance, and prone to deflecting the same question back onto Erik who was not so talented at such things.

Erik gave his own non-answer and the result was most often Charles smiling that knowing smile of his which made Erik feel simultaneously wary and intrigued, a strange cocktail indeed.

He _would_ talk about his likes and dislikes easily enough and that was not so dangerous a topic. He’d read some, for example, and would talk about books happily. He’d taken to asking if he could borrow some of Erik’s to read, and Erik agreed, unable to deny him such a simple request. It passed the time, he supposed, and it was easier to talk with Charles about academic matters than anything else.

Charles gave no sign that he was aware of his position. He spoke to Erik as if they were friends and Erik didn’t mind it. It made it so Charles got out of line sometimes, but most of the time it was a relief. The others had been born into this life and never saw him as anything other than someone to be silent around, to quietly bow their heads to for the most part. The longer that Erik knew Charles the more he thought that must not be the case for him. He was simply too comfortable freely speaking his mind.

Erik still watched him from time to time, working out in the yard. It was a shame he always chose to wear his cloak, as it made it difficult for Erik to see him, but perhaps it was better that way. Erik did his best not to look too often but Charles was difficult to look away from.

He dreamed about him sometimes, which was worrying, but his subconscious was beyond his control. Pale skin and red lips and white teeth danced in his mind and he was powerless to them in sleep as he was awake. Erik struggled with his attraction, desperate to keep it to himself. He did not want to make the boy uncomfortable, although Charles made it extremely difficult.

It grew far worse quite suddenly when Erik found he could make Charles laugh. Erik was not expecting it, let alone trying to do so purposefully. He wasn’t one for jokes and was even less one to force them even if it might lighten a situation. It was such a small occurrence, Erik thought looking back, considering the effect it had on him.

The conversation was progressing as it normally did, the two of them talking about nothing particularly important. They had somehow managed to get onto the topic of the art of conversation itself. They had rather different views on it, which was not uncommon nor unexpected. Erik thought the two of them were different in many ways, albeit superficial ones.

“There is no point to it.”

“None at all?”

“None that I have found.”

“I feel you must not have put much effort into your search if that’s the case.”

“It does not take much effort to determine that something so blatantly useless and irritating is so.”

Charles frowned at him, not ever so easily swayed. “There are times you must talk to people you do not care much for,” he pointed out. “And what then?”

“What do you mean?”

“What will you do? If you avoid petty conversation with those you do not mind speaking to for longer periods of time, what experience will you have to lean on if such a situation arises?”

Erik had told Charles that he was not one to waste time with small-talk which was utterly hypocritical given their current circumstances even if Charles had been polite enough not to mention it. (Erik was grateful, as the fact that small-talk with Charles had yet to bore him weighed heavily on his conscious). Still, as long as they were pretending that his previous statement was not as flimsy and lacking-evidence as it was, he supposed he would continue on with it in mind.

“That’s simple,” Erik said. “The trick is to simply not speak to people whom you dislike in the first place.”

That was what caused it. Erik did not think in hindsight that it was worthy of the reaction it garnered, but in the moment he did not think of it, so distracted was he. The quip startled the noise out of Charles and so wonderful the soft sound was that Erik wanted to do it again at once somehow, to earn it and relish it.

He stamped down on the urge, biting back his own reaction, flinching back from Charles when he brushed against his arm, but it made no difference. The feeling was there inside of him, taking root quicker than should have been possible, vines curling around his heart and squeezing.

“Was my response humorous?” he demanded in a flimsy attempt to mask it.

Charles smiled at him, early disagreement gone at once. “Somewhat. I suppose it was because, looking back, I do not know what else I could have possibly expected, asking you that question.”

There was a level of familiarity to the response, an insinuation of knowledge concerning himself which Erik was not at all comfortable with. He supposed it was inevitable. Even if they spoke only of frivolous things, Charles would come to know him better than most other creatures on this earth, as consistent conversation had become an anomaly in Erik’s life long ago. He had not seen it so clearly before, but now it was incredibly apparent to him. The distance between them—or lack thereof—was unrecognizable when compared to what had existed less than a month ago. The thought was enough to have him forcing an end to the conversation soon after.

Still, despite his efforts and his concern, Erik couldn’t help but feel proud when he managed to earn the sound again a few days later.

This was a dangerous game he was playing. He knew it more acutely with each passing day. Still, he knew not what to do to alleviate the tension he felt. He could not throw Charles out without due cause, nor could he continue on the way he had been. But as long as Charles was nearby, he didn’t see how the latter could be helped.

The only solution he could come to was to stop responding to Charles, to turn away from him fully. For both of their sakes, Erik knew it would be for the best, but it still pained him to do it. Nonetheless, he set about it, spending more time in his study and claiming to be busy if Charles did happen to knock on his door.

It was frustrating, the clear delineation between having Charles around and not, that in such a short time he had made such an impression in Erik’s life, but Erik forced himself to readjust to the quiet and the solitude. His mind was occupied with things to come, which helped somewhat. Usually he was not even remotely anticipatory but this time around he thought the occurrence would do him well. There were preparations to be made, things to be done for a night upcoming, so Erik kept himself occupied.

Still, he could not help but occasionally encounter Charles and the distance he’d wedged between them had seemingly only made him more determined to speak to Erik when he did see him. It was the night before that Charles caught him walking back from his chambers. The boy was beyond restless, moving constantly like a small bird fluttering from perch to perch, never content to rest for more than a few moments. Erik thought that was part of the reason work in the garden suited him.

“Mr. Lehnsherr,” Charles greeted him, striding over, blocking Erik where he stood unless he felt like shoving past him.

“Charles,” Erik acknowledged briefly, not giving anything else.

Per usual, his brevity did nothing to dampen Charles’s own drive for conversation. “I feel as though I have not seen you in more than a week despite us living under the same roof,” Charles told him, cutting to the quick of it. It was an innocent enough statement but Erik felt as though he’d been caught. Charles could see right through him, he felt, saw his intentions for what they were.

Still, he sought to brush it off. Truthfully he did not have time for this, let alone the patience. “Such is the case with such large, old estates I’m afraid. If you have no concrete inquiry to make, then I must be on my way.” He did push around Charles somewhat, moving down the hall away from him.

“Still busy?” Charles called after him anyway. Erik grit his teeth but paused. “I never knew a great man so busy as you. I thought the point of wealth was to have the privilege of being at peace.”

Erik hardly agreed with that and although he tried, he could not help but correct the young man on so superficial a belief. “Rather the opposite. Great wealth and all that comes with it is the antithesis of peace.”

Charles was biting back a smile in spite of the retort, probably glad to have forced the words out and Erik cursed at himself for being so easily lured. “Perhaps. But only if that great wealth is coveted, kept like a dark secret. I imagine it is a burden only if you allow it to be.”

He had a point, which was often the case, but Erik forced himself not to acknowledge it. “Regardless, it does one little good to remain idle, no matter their particular financial situation. I keep busy by choice.”

“Unwilling to become the devil’s plaything?” Charles asked. “That’s how the rest of that saying goes, is it not?”

Charles had not moved from where he stood, but Erik felt as though they’d stepped closer nonetheless. He was backlit by moonlight, but seemed to glow from it rather than being cast into shadow. Erik shook the idea free from his mind.

“Yes,” he said simply. “That’s right. Goodnight, Charles.”

Disappointment or something like it twitched across the boy’s face but he had enough pride not to protest. “Goodnight, Mr. Lehnsherr.”

Erik turned before he could think it through and left Charles’s silver silhouette behind him. Something twisted in Erik’s chest, sharp like wire. He had not even been particularly short with him, and still here he was, facing the consequences. Erik sighed to himself. He did not know what he had expected. To be kind was to be vulnerable, he knew that well enough, and he could not help but be kind to Charles.

His inability to not obsess over the issue was beyond irritating, particularly when there were more pressing matters at hand. Erik did his best to focus on those instead. Now was not the time for such frivolous trains of thought. Back in his study, Erik was quick to remind himself that the fickle pains of the heart would pale in comparison of what was to come and that unwanted proximity could be dealt with easily enough if only one was willing to make the effort to step away.

**

Erik—for his given name was Erik. Charles had weaseled it out of the older woman, Mrs. Grey, at one point, frustrated by the need for titles—was avoiding him. Sometimes he was better at it than others, but it was true whether he succeeded in being as cold and impenetrable as stone or if he could be lured into short exchanges despite his initial attempts at escape.

Charles supposed he knew why, but that did not make it any less frustrating. What was the point of all this if he was going to be kept from his main point of interest in this isolated fortress? Grand and intriguing as it was, it was often overwhelmingly lonely. He cared little for the wage he was being given or the company of the others although it was fine on occasion, if superficial, based on mutual experience rather than true friendship. No, Charles knew why he stayed and he refused to be put off so easily.

Erik certainly knew how to make it challenging however. The man could more or less live in that study of his, holing himself up at night and shutting the door. Charles wished he knew what it was he was doing in there, for he was doing something. His efforts to inquire after Erik’s work had been mostly unsuccessful. To Charles’s knowledge it was study-based and involved a fair amount of writing if the papers crowding Erik’s desk were anything to go by, though the topic remained entirely unknown to him and he thought it would stay that way for some time. Erik’s resistance on the subject seemed more or less permanent.

Whether or not Charles knew what occurred within, it was a wonderful room, packed full to bursting with books, new and old. What he would give to go through it, to be able to touch them, look through them. There was another library in the house which was a nice enough place to spend time, but he longed to know what books Erik kept close. Nothing better revealed one’s character than their taste in literature, Charles believed. To see which volumes were worn thin from use, kept close and ready, stacked neatly and cared for was to see someone’s very soul.

But such permission would not be granted easily. That week in particular Erik _was_ doing something other than keeping himself busy for the hell of it, Charles could tell, so he used the time to strategize somewhat.

It had seemed that progress was being made, slow but steady, for some time, although now it had halted entirely. What caused the change Charles did not know. He only knew that the space between them, occupied by innumerous unknowns, was no longer growing smaller nor being chipped away by their brief conversations, often insignificant in topic but never uninteresting.

He was unsure exactly how to begin making headway once more. He thought maybe bringing to legitimate concerns to Erik might be a start. That was always his first question, without fail when Charles came up to him. Not hello, but “did you need something?” Well-meaning enough but it grated some on Charles.

He thought to talk with Erik he might have to be willing to show some of himself as well. Erik had been curious to the point of demanding that first night, and perhaps he was still curious. Charles would need to be careful he knew, but if that was the key he was willing to sacrifice a bit of safety for the sake of gaining knowledge of his own.

That was the plan then. Approach Erik with some sort of made-up or frivolous issue, then offer something of his own in exchange for a scrap of actual conversation, a taste of casual intimacy, connection between the two of them. Charles set out that way the next night, walking straight up to Erik’s study and knocking. He hadn’t seen the man all day but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

There was no response. That was unordinary. Erik was quick to turn him away but he was also quick to get it over with. Charles knocked again, peering at the crack in the wooden doors and seeing no light streaming through.

Still no answer. Very peculiar. “Mr. Lehnsherr?” he called.

Nothing still.

Charles frowned, discouraged, but not completely put out yet. He pressed on the handle of the door out of curiosity and it gave way beneath the pressure, unlocked. He risked the invasion of privacy to push the door open further and peek inside.

He frowned when the room turned up empty, its master mysteriously absent. The hearth was not lit, nor was there any sign of life in the space. Charles glanced around for a few moments, tempted to take the opportunity to look further but resisted. This was something he wanted to earn.

Charles turned back, closing the door behind him and recalculating. So rare was it to find Erik outside the study during night, but perhaps he was in his chambers? That would be even more daring, something Charles had not had the nerve to try quite yet, calling on him there. Still, he knew the right door and it would not hurt to try.

Making his way through the winding halls of the castle, Charles thought the shadows seemed restless. Odd for it was a bright night out, full of stars and moonlight. The whole yard could be seen if he were to look out the window, green lined with silver. After a few moments of consideration, he excused the thought as nerves and continued on.

In the end he didn’t make it as far as Erik’s chambers, happening upon the older maid first. “Hello,” he greeted her.

“Hello, Charles,” Mrs. Grey replied, giving him an easy smile. “How are you tonight?”

“Well enough.” He supposed it couldn’t hurt to ask. She might have seen him about when Charles hadn’t. “I was looking for Mr. Lehnsherr actually. I had something to ask him. Do you know where I might find him?”

A strange look crossed her face for a moment but was gone soon after. “Oh, I’m sorry love, Mr. Lehnsherr is out.”

Charles frowned. “Out?”

“Yes. Out for the night. He’ll most likely return tomorrow morning. Is it something urgent? I might be able to help you in the meantime. I’ve been here long enough, I ought to be of some use if the master of the house is not around.”

Charles blinked. He was still caught on the idea that Erik had left. He hadn’t seen him leave the house once since he’d arrived a little less than a month ago. It was strange to think of the house without its master. Where had he gone? And why only at night?

“It can wait,” Charles finally replied, dragging himself back into the conversation. He didn’t want to be rude the woman after she had offered to help him so easily, “although I appreciate your offer. Do you know where it is he’s gone? It seems odd for him to leave for only a night, or at all, really.” He laughed to soften the comment.

There was another pause before she answered and it made Charles strangely suspicious that she either did not know what she was talking about or was lying to him. “He sometimes goes to the closest post station to receive his letters and some supplies,” she told him. “About once a month or so. He leaves at night, arrives right as they open, and then returns. Why he prefers to travel at night, I know not. That’s his business, I suppose, although I suspect the roads in town are less busy very early in the morning.”

Charles fought to keep his uncertainty off his face. It certainly seemed odd that a man that explicitly told his employees to stay inside out night would prefer it to travel, but he supposed the idea of Erik going to receive his mail was plausible enough. There was more to it, Charles thought, but he doubted he’d get it out of this woman.

So he gave her a smile and nodded. “I see. Well, I’ll speak to him tomorrow then. Thank you for your help. Goodnight.”

The woman seemed relieved and allowed him to go on his way easily enough. Charles went, but did not walk far, his mind too busy to be watching where he was going. He made his way over to the nearest window and stood before it, crossing his arms over his chest.

Something was being hidden from him, or from all of them, he thought. He doubted he would be able to riddle it out on his own, but its existence seemed clear to him, even nameless and vague as it was. It was amusing to wonder about, Charles supposed, to think up any ridiculous reason why Erik might do what he did.

The first Charles came up with was so outrageous as to not be worth even a second thought. Once he was past it the ideas became far more entertaining to consider. He let his mind run wild with them to distract himself from the frustration of not knowing the truth.

Still, even imagining Erik as a fugitive of the law, forced to travel by night to hide his identity could only take up so much of the night and eventually Charles was forced to go on his way, tolerating his endlessly turning mind as best he could.

It was a long night, one not even reading could pass very well. The other things that Charles tended to get up to alone in his room at night could only take up so much time too, and they weren’t incredibly productive considering the current source of his spiraling thoughts. By the time morning came Charles had taken to laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

It was not the light arriving at last that drew him from his room, but his stomach. All at once it cramped, aching like it had not in some time. The pain was sharp, and while Charles had gotten used to it after many years, he could not help but be forced to his feet because of it. He could smell something sweet and tempting and awfully familiar, and he was helpless in his awareness of it.

He moved without thought, pulling his trousers and cloak back on before padding out his door. It was barely dawn, the tropical colors of sunrise just now beginning to pour into the house. Darkness still clung in some corners, and he kept close to it as went on his way, tugged by something beyond his control. He was somewhat thoughtless in his movements, familiar enough with the main floor of the manor, and before he knew it he was near the front door.

Charles blinked, suddenly aware again, aware of his surroundings and of the fact that there was a figure slumped against the door. His mind worked sluggishly for all it had been plowing ahead before to identify it, but once it did many things snapped into place at once and he flinched back forcibly.

It was Erik, of course. He looked drawn-out, exhausted, sallow even, but he was breathing well enough. He was, however, bleeding. There was a long scrape up the length of his forearm, the scarlet of the blood telling on his white sleeve.

Charles froze. Only rarely had he exerted such an immediate, iron-clad grip on himself. His vision swam and his abdomen ached and all he could see was the red, but he held himself still desperately for several long moments, long enough for Erik to glance up and see him.

It was then that he turned and ran, far beyond his room, straight out to the yard and the cool clean air of the morning, as far away from the other man as he could get.

**

It was a difficult night, more difficult than the last few. Erik didn’t know exactly how he had managed to slice his arm of all things the way he had. He thought perhaps a fall had done it which was frustrating if only because he loathed being put out by such an avoidable circumstance.

By the time dawn came and he struggled his way back inside he was exhausted, as always, his whole body aching. Part of it was that he had left early and strove to go further than usual, for Charles’s sake. The boy still wandered at night even though he had told him not to, so he took extra precautions. Unfortunately, he was not as young as he used to be and that effort was taking its toll.

When he arrived back inside he slumped down against the door automatically, unable to do much other than sit there. He didn’t even realize Charles was there for several long moments. When he did catch sight of him, he ran like he was being chased, faster than he’d ever seen him move.

The movement was startling and Erik had no idea what had caused it. Surely not Erik himself. Paranoia ate at him, the deep-set dread of a man with a secret, but only briefly. There was no fathomable way he knew. It was simply impossible.

Glancing down again at the red on his arm he supposed that must have been it. The boy was squeamish, most likely, had caught side of the blood and bolted. He sighed, hating to have spooked him. There was nothing for it now but to apologize later, make up some excuse for the injury. For now, he supposed he should get up and clean it.

Hauling himself to his feet, he went, knowing he needed to look less horrible before the rest of the castle awoke anyway. He did clean the wound and bandage it—not too deep in the end—but that was all he managed before he collapsed onto his bed and sank into a deep sleep.

Incidentally, he didn’t see Charles for the rest of the day and was too weary to do much about it.

Erik could not bring himself to do anything productive aside from rest until a day later. It made him aware that he really was getting older, a fact that he did not particularly appreciate being reminded of.

When he did manage to get back into his normal routine, he found everyone working as usual, fairly autonomous, even Charles who had apparently recovered from his scare and was back out in the garden as usual, tending to the flowers blooming around the edges. Part of Erik thought it would be best to let the incident pass as it left open a great deal of room for inquiry which he did not necessarily want, but the rest of him thought it wouldn’t be fair to the boy to not address it. It would be better to know for certain if he was averse to blood for the future anyway.

So, for the first time in weeks, Erik sought Charles out. He found him in the library, near the fire, caught up in some large volume. For a moment he stood by the door, watched the way the fire danced across Charles’s skin, so similar to the night he’d first found him, before he cleared his throat and revealed his presence.

Charles glanced up and caught sight of him, but the look he received was far from open or welcoming. It was wary somehow, and Erik hated to see it on his face.

“Charles,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Could I speak with you?” Part of his mind was yelling at him that this was his chance to put permanent distance between them. _Let him be wary_ , it was saying. _Let him stay back from you_. But Erik couldn’t stand it. He wasn’t strong enough to bear it, and maybe he had known that the whole time.

Charles smoothed his expression out and nodded so Erik approached, coming to stand beside him, hovering rather than sitting next to him fully. He left some space, but not too much. “I think I frightened you the other morning,” he said, deciding not to beat around the bush. “Because of my injury.”

Charles’s eyes snapped up and his brow furrowed slightly as if he was thinking about something. Erik wasn’t sure what it meant, but the mild confusion was better than fear or apathy.

“I apologize,” he continued. “I was hurt during my travels and I hadn’t yet had time to clean it.” Traveling was his usual, blanket alibi for such nights, and it worked well enough.

Slowly the line of Charles’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s…alright. I was not expecting it was all.”

Some of the pressure in Erik’s chest let up at the prospect of being forgiven. “I guessed as much, with the way you ran off.”

Charles gave him a sheepish smile. “Yes, well. I was not exactly thinking straight at the time.”

“It’s alright,” Erik assured him. “Many dislike the sight of blood. It is not particularly strange.”

Charles was looking at him again, turning toward him more fully, setting the book aside. Erik yearned to move closer. “But not you? You seemed…unperturbed.”

Erik cast his eyes away briefly. “I have seen enough of it that I no longer worry much over such a small injury.”

Charles took that for what it was, fortunately, only nodding, taking the information and not pressing for more. “Is it…alright?” he asked, flicking his eyes toward Erik’s arm where the cut was already beginning to heal. “Healing?”

“It was not deep,” Erik told him, flexing his fingers out. “It will be nothing more than a scar within the week.”

Another strange look crossed Charles’s face, but all he did was nod. “I’m glad.”

There was something between them still, some tension, but Erik could not name it. It was different than usual, perhaps because his own feelings did not appear to be the source. This tension was Charles’s, though he knew not what might be causing it. There was a pause afterwards, a silence full to bursting, that lasted longer than was comfortable.

It was warm where they were from the fire, almost too hot due to simple proximity. Erik yearned to sit and rest there by the other man’s side despite the temperature, but he was keenly aware that he had stayed long enough as it was. He had indulged himself more than enough for one night and it would be better that he left, particularly if Charles was reluctant to pursue further conversation.

Erik shifted from one foot to the other and then made to leave. He thought that this should be easier. He was not prone to amiability, so to have to fight it thus was strange. Still, he did his best with the task, preparing to move on. His duty was done. He had apologized and now he would leave the boy be.

“Wait,” Charles called before he could get much further and Erik hated that something like relief blossomed in his chest because of it. “You would leave me so soon?”

Erik steeled himself, rallying against his own reaction. “I have finished what I came to do, so yes.”

“And what was that?” Charles asked, peering up at him, surrounding him again in enchanting blue. “To apologize for bleeding?”

Erik scowled. “To apologize for frightening you.”

Charles raised his eyebrows in a way that was almost defiant. “I was not, nor have I ever been frightened of you.”

Erik mimicked him. “You ran away at the sight of me.”

Charles laughed and reached a hand out toward him, beckoning him back. “I would ask you not to judge me so harshly on natural impulses. In defense of my honor, my master was slumped against the front door, drawn and injured. Would you rather have had me look on with apathy?”

Erik grit his teeth, still holding his ground. He wondered how it was that Charles was able to twist his words with such skill. It was times like these that his responses seemed purposeful, to some greater end, but that was far beyond what Erik would allow himself to even imagine. Hope was a stubborn thing and it grew like a weed once permitted to take root. It was better to avoid it all together.

Charles gave him another incredulous look. “Do you mean to hover over me for the rest of the night? I’ve made my entreaty. Come sit with me or go as you wish. I cannot hold you.”

If only Charles knew how blatantly untrue that was. Erik betrayed himself again, ultimately, or at least betrayed his better sense by turning and sinking down next to the other man at last, settling more completely in front of the fire. Charles gifted him a smile in return and sank down further on his haunches himself.

“There,” he said. “Now we may speak at our leisure.”

True, although Erik was unsure what to speak of. No matter, surely Charles would come up with something soon enough. He tended not to let silences linger for too long. Erik thought it must bother him that he rallied against them the way he did.

“I was looking for you the other night,” Charles told him, looking off into the swirling orange of the fire. “The night you were gone.”

Erik pushed down on an instinctive spike of apprehension. He knew well enough that Charles would get around to that topic at some point, curious as he was and usually willing to pick up any subject as long as it pleased him no matter how sensitive or private it might be. “Were you?”

“Yes. I was told you were out to pick up the mail at the nearest station.”

That was a decent cover, and Erik was glad to hear that that was what Charles had been told. It was vague enough, nothing overly suspicious. A man was allowed to pick up his mail from time to time. “That’s right.”

Charles had been watching him as he responded, looking him over, almost as if he was waiting for something, but Erik kept his expression steady. He’d had years of practice and even Charles could not shake him so easily on the topic. “Why travel at night? It must not be safe if you come back injured,” he pressed on, undeterred.

Erik pressed his lips together. Practiced or not, he could easily see this going too far. Some strange part of him almost wanted to tell Charles just to see how he would react. Disbelief? Fear after all? But he’d locked those words away long ago, far more thoroughly than he had done with his heart, it would seem. They would not soon escape, if ever. He thought it might be better to close the subject rather than entertain the boy any longer. There were other things to talk about.

“You would do well not to question why or when your master travels,” Erik told Charles, adopting a more authoritative tone, raising his chin at him. “That business I keep for myself.”

Disappointment flitted across Charles’s face but it was tailed by resignation. Soon enough he was back to his usual amiable expression, tilting up his own chin. “Secret business, hm? I see now where you stand, sir. Then again, I suppose all of us have some. I feel it may be impossible to live a completely honest life.”

That piqued Erik’s interest. “You have some in that case? As young as you are?”

Charles’s expression was mercurial in response, shifting like the shadows cast by the fire, but he settled on an infuriatingly coquettish curl of his lips. “I am no saint, nor am I particularly young, as I’ve said before.”

That was a yes. Interesting, although not entirely surprising. The simple, bland picture Erik had painted of this young man the first night they’d met had long since been filled out, splashed with a myriad of colors and lines and shadows. Charles was the opposite of simplistic. There was much more to him than he revealed, even as he often sought to eke the same clear picture of self out of Erik.

“Younger than me,” Erik argued, certain of it. He believed Charles when he said he was older than he looked, but that didn’t negate the fact that he could easily pass for a boy of fifteen if he wanted to. There were no lines on his face, no slouch to his form. He was pristine in every way, yet unaffected by the wear a larger number of years passed would cause.

Charles considered it. “Perhaps. I do not presume to speculate such facts about you.”

“And why is that?”

Charles paused, humming as he thought. Erik noticed then that they were closer than before, leaning in to each other as they spoke. He forced himself to reassert the distance. Charles watched him as he did, but did not mention it. “I find you like this castle, in that I would not know where to begin were I to try to guess its age. Moreover, I feel it would not do to put something so simple as numbers to something so grand. It speaks for itself in the sturdiness of its foundation and the timeless nature of its halls. It seems to pay no mind to time, here in the winter as it is in the spring. I prefer to judge it with my own eyes rather than let its value be imparted to me by something so impersonal as a year.”

Erik was stunned by the declaration, unsure how to pry apart the metaphor from Charles’s true meaning. It hadn’t been what he was expecting in the least, and now that he had the words, he did not know what to do with them.

“I see,” was what he settled on, unable to form a better response.

Charles’s gaze was steady again, calm like the sky on a clear day. “If my inflection was unclear,” he said, nonchalant, “it was a compliment. You should take it as such.”

The declaration only flustered Erik further, try as he might to keep in control. Who was this young man and what was it he thought to gain from this? Erik could not riddle it out. What had brought him here of all places? What was it that made him stay and say such things? They were rarely spoken outside of more formal courtship, and this he must know. Erik had no connections, nothing to offer but payment which he was already giving.

It was beyond any logic. Erik had no understanding of Charles’s intentions, for he presented them in such as a way as could not possibly be true. He was prone to teasing and jest, and that was how Erik eventually parsed the statement. He forced out a laugh. “A joke, I presume.”

Charles frowned at him suddenly and the expression was so novel on his face that it took Erik aback. “You laugh at my sincerity. It was no joke. My words were honest, as were the feelings behind them.”

The second declaration was somehow more startling than the first if only due to the steel in Charles’s voice when he said it. Erik looked him over, still trying to understand but Charles didn’t flinch, only looked right back.

Erik gave in first, turning back to the fire. “You should not waste your words of flattery on old men.”

When Erik chanced a peek back at Charles he was screwing up his face, but ultimately all he did was sigh, deflating some. “Take them or don’t. I can use them as I wish, and I spoke plainly. There is no deflection you can manage that will change that.”

Erik couldn’t bite back the smile that rose up from the pure force of Charles’s petulance. “I take your point.”

Charles stared him down for a few moments longer, serious to the point of it being humorous. It gave Erik a good opportunity to look back which he did. Glancing the other man over, however, he noticed that he looked tired, rings of exhaustion like a purple-blue stain under his eyes. The firelight danced over his skin showing clearly that he was as pale as he had been that first night in the rain.

“Are you feeling well?” Erik demanded without thinking. “Your skin is pale.”

Charles looked down at his lap, abruptly somber. “Yes,” he said. “Truthfully I do need to make a request. I had meant to seek you out later tonight, but then you came of your own will.”

Charles apparently put value on that difference. Erik wasn’t sure how to feel about it, more occupied with the larger point of his statement. “Do you need a doctor?” Cool fear at the idea seeped into Erik’s chest.

“No.” He said the word firmly, brushing off the notion. “But I would like to ask for a week or so of leave.”

Erik parsed that. The idea brought with it many questions, not the least of which was where it was he needed to go. Did he have family after all? If not, what was it he needed a week for? “If you are feeling unwell I doubt that travel will be particularly good for you.”

“Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. I’m merely tired. I would…like some time off. Truthfully I am not used to working quite yet and am still trying to adjust to it,” Charles told him, not meeting his eyes quite as much as before.

Erik supposed that made sense, although it seemed a bit odd. It pained him to think of Charles leaving, but he knew he could not hold him there. Perhaps the week would do them both good, and if it was what Charles wanted… “Very well. Will you require aid reaching the nearest village?”

Charles looked relieved and shook his head. “I will be fine on my own. Thank you, Mr. Lehnsherr. I truly think the week will do me well.”

Erik forced himself to nod. He allowed the bright light of the fire to burn in his eyes for a few breaths as he gathered himself. When he turned back to Charles there was a glow all around him and his chest ached. How close he was, entirely within Erik’s grasp. How small his hand looked next to Erik’s and how easy it would be to take it. It would be warm from the fire, Erik imagined.

“Are _you_ well?” Charles asked, snapping him back into the present.

Erik shook himself, righting the consistently erring course of his mind, and nodded again. How easily all his work from the past while had been undone, if had accomplished anything of note in the first place (which he doubted greatly), he thought.

Charles tilted his head. “Very well. In that case, I’ll depart tomorrow morning.”

Another nod. Erik thought that was as good a cue as any to move on, so he stood and this time Charles did not beckon him back. “I bid you safe travels.”

“Thank you,” Charles said, smiling, not yet freeing him from the lovely cage of his gaze. “I hope you won’t miss me too much while I’m gone.”

Whatever was cracked in Erik’s chest ached, but he thought it best to remain neutral. This had been more than enough for one night. “I think the flowers will last the week without you.”

Charles’s smile faded and he sank into himself somewhat, not unlike a flower lacking sunlight, and Erik couldn’t help himself. “Still, they will eagerly await your return, I’m sure.”

That helped. It wasn’t much but it made it so Charles didn’t look quite so dejected. “Goodbye for now then.”

Erik nodded a final time and turned forcibly to leave the room, full of all its light and warmth, not due to the fire alone in the least. “Goodbye for now.”

**

Erik was thick as the metal head of a shovel, Charles thought irritably. He hadn’t meant to focus on that, but it was what swirled around in his mind as he departed before dawn the proceeding morning.

Unfortunately there was not much he could do about it at the moment. He did need to go. He had pushed himself long enough as it was and the scare the other morning proved that. That had been far too close for comfort, and fear still gripped him at the memory. He needed to leave and take care of things, give himself more time and peace of mind.

In his own defense, none of this had been planned or he might have been better off at the start. As it was, well…

He hated to leave, but there wasn’t anything to be done for it. He hated more to think what might happen if he stayed. He wondered if perhaps the distance would do some good, although he doubted somewhat Erik’s ability to comprehend anything correctly on his own. The logical part of his mind was simultaneously overpowering and completely absent when it came to what was between them, it seemed. It was driving Charles up a wall.

If nothing else, it might do him some good to sort things out. If he did miss Charles—or if he didn’t, though Charles did not particularly like to think of that option—perhaps he would take the time they were together more seriously when he returned.

And he would return, maybe in less than a week depending on his luck. But for now, he had real work to do. He didn’t look forward to it on principle, but in actuality he couldn’t help but yearn to begin.

In the fading dark of the early morning, dew-coated and lively with birdsong, Charles set off, leaving the castle and its master behind for the first time in more than a month.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading along so far; I hope that you'll continue to enjoy the story as it progresses!

The following week was a long one. Erik had expected as much but it was different to be faced with the reality at hand rather than simply imagining it. Time drug its feet as it went by and try as Erik might, he struggled to keep busy.

The patch of yard outside the window in his study was noticeably empty, and the nights felt quiet to the point of being oppressive without Charles around to interrupt his own inner monologue. He knew not where Charles was but he felt the distance between them acutely. He worried more than he cared to admit about where he was, if he was safe, and if he would return.

That last thought was the most haunting. As the week finally reached its end, it was what occupied the most space in his mind. He received more than one comment about being distracted from his staff which was not at all ordinary. The fact that they’d noticed was a clue to how much he was allowing it to affect him.

He loathed that he couldn’t set his feelings aside, but logic did no good against them. Insisting that it was only a week did little to make the time move faster than its glacial pace, and telling himself that getting so worked up was unproductive, particularly when nothing would change if and when Charles returned, did nothing to calm his torrential thoughts. The week could only be lasted; there was nothing else for it.

On the seventh night, Erik found himself walking around the estate, through the trees and the grass. The flowers did seem to lack some color, but perhaps that was only the time. It was a hazy twilight that day, purples and blues more than reds and oranges, almost too quiet, but there was peace to be found in walking and being out in the open air. Summer was on the horizon, sweet and heady, and nights like this made it so Erik could feel it on his skin and all around him.

He walked for a good long time, trying to be rid of some of the nervous energy he felt, and, for the first time in a while, lost track of time. His thoughts were not entirely free of Charles, for he thought that it would be nice to walk with him on such a lovely night, but the idea was light enough to not burden him.

Erik was coming around the front of the house when he spotted him approaching, and he stopped in his tracks.

Charles was not moving slowly, but he was taking his time moving through the nearly-evening air. He looked much better than he had the night before he left. He appeared like a phantom in the fading light, an illusion, hardly there. Erik worried that maybe he wasn’t and his mind had finally gotten the better of him, but then Charles looked up and caught sight of him in return and smiled.

“Hello,” he called, speeding up his step.

Erik went toward him as well, impossibly drawn and desperate for reunion no matter how small.

Soon enough their paths intersected once more and they both came to a stop. For a second they were silent, but Charles did not tolerate it for long.

“I am back,” he announced, smiling again at Erik, looking somewhat flushed from exertion, so pink was his skin, rosy like the flowers that curled in the corners of the garden.

“So you are,” Erik nodded, biting back his own mirror grin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m glad to be returning again,” Charles told him, folding his hands behind his back. “The time did me well, but it’s always a relief to return to what is familiar.”

Erik couldn’t help the way his eyes were skittering over the other man, desperate to take him in, to recall every detail of him. Such immense relief he felt to have him near again, as though someone had set one of his bones back into place so that he might stand properly once more. “I am glad as well.”

That earned him a wider smile. Charles’s grin gleamed even in the low light. “Did the flowers miss me after all?” he prompted, and Erik could see the question for what it really was.

Still, he was helpless to do anything but tell the truth. He knew not how long it would last but for now the power that Charles held over him was immense. “They did.”

Charles’s smile only grew sweeter in response.

Erik knew he ought to invite Charles in, that he was most likely tired from his travels, but there was still a small amount of light, and he couldn’t help but ask, too weak to keep the words from coming forth. “Would you be too tired to join me and use up whatever light remains in the day?”

“Not at all.” Charles’s eyes almost glowed with energy. “I enjoy walking at all times.”

Erik nodded and continued on. Charles fell into step alongside him, as if he belonged there. It made something in Erik’s chest flutter. After a short silence, curiosity got the better of him, as did his desire to hear Charles’s voice. “How was your journey?”

Even from the side he could see the way Charles’s lips curled up at the prompt. “It was easy enough. I had no trouble. Less in seven days than you had in one night.”

Erik frowned at the jab, but didn’t comment on it. There was not much he could say to refute it and he did not want to switch the subject.

“The countryside is lovely this time of year. No rain to drown me and the heat hasn’t risen enough to be unbearable. I saw numerous animals as well. There were many deer along the path. They jump so gracefully, you know, even the fawns. So young but so steady on their feet.”

Left to his own devices, Charles was content to talk and Erik was content to listen as they rounded the outer edges of the estate, using up the last of the day’s light. Charles spoke of animals and flowers and anything else he might have seen. He did not tell Erik what it was he had been doing, but Erik could not bring himself to mind.

“Did you see any faeries?” Erik teased him as they came back around toward the front of the manor. He hated to cut their walk short but it was getting difficult to see and the air was cooling quickly. He supposed there would be other nights. “Or unearthly beings?”

Charles gave him a mischievous look. “I’m afraid I cannot say. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“That is as good as a yes,” argued Erik.

Charles only smiled at him and didn’t say another word. They had stopped walking, Erik noticed, and were standing facing each other. Erik watched the rise and fall of Charles’s shoulders as he breathed and noted for possibly the millionth time what a temptation the red curves of his lips were. They would be soft, Erik thought, soft and sweet. How he longed to take them for himself, to taste that smart mouth, or the curve of his cheek, or the line of his neck—

Erik forced back the train of thought, cut it off at the head. Shame swirled in as it always did when his thoughts became so concrete as to suggest action, a little quieter now that he was older and had lived with the reality of his desires for some time, but ever present. He hated to think how Charles would startle from him if he tried something so careless and violating. Such lecherous thoughts from his employer, someone like him. Erik berated himself for it even as he continued to long for what he condemned.

“Mr. Lehnsherr?” Charles’s voice drew him back and he took a step back as he became aware again.

“Ready to go inside?” he asked. “Rest after your travels.”

Slowly Charles nodded and turned toward the door, heading up the steps. He turned back at the top however to address Erik once more. “I missed you as well. I am very glad to speak with you again.” With that he did turn and head inside, an unexpected retreat. Erik was stuck frozen out in the first full hour of darkness that night for longer than he would have liked to admit.

He clenched his teeth and moved inside eventually. As he headed back toward his study he endeavored to quell the ache inside of himself and did not succeed.

**

Charles knew he was not being as cautious as he should, but he had almost thought Erik would kiss him out in front of the house. He hadn’t, of course, which Charles resented, for he had rather wanted to be kissed. Kissed and held and taken fully into Erik’s confidence, among other things.

But he had been denied again, so he had taken a chance, unable to help himself. His journey had been successful, the damnable hunger always within him now a mere murmur rather than a roar, and for that he was glad, but he hated to be away from Erik for so long. Admittedly the distance had only made him want the other man more than ever. And he did want Erik, completely, all of him, again and again, as much as he would give.

Erik wanted it too, Charles was all but certain of it. The way he looked at him held a heat that was unmistakable for what it really was. Charles was unsure why he held back specifically, but he had some ideas. Age perhaps, since Erik still thought him much younger than he was. (Frustrating to say the least.) Position of power, maybe. That could be reasonable, but Charles didn’t see much point, if both parties were interested, to adhere to false titles.

Gender. Charles suspected that was most of it. Society had certain views, unfortunately, which were hard to shake, and often taught children harmful things concerning whom they could love. He had a feeling that was the major source of Erik’s reticence and self-denial, which was saddening to think about. He supposed all he could do was be open himself, although he knew not how much more blatant he could be. He wanted to give Erik his own time and space to come around, but he thought he could only wait so much longer. Charles had never been a particularly patient man when it came to such matters.

Things fell back into normalcy after he returned. He went out to the garden, began to fix it up, did his work as usual, and at night he wandered. He could only stand the blatant lack of forward progress for so long, however, and sooner than later strayed from routine. It had been long enough, he decided, and he was through wasting time, so after a few restless rounds through the halls, he moved with more purpose.

Charles knew that what he was doing was most likely dangerous as well, whether he wanted to admit to himself that it was or not. Admittedly, he had never become so…involved before. He was fairly confident in his own self-control, but there was always a risk factor. He wondered sometimes if the longer the stay the more likely something was to go wrong, but he tried not to tread that path often.

Eventually Erik would come around, take was Charles was offering to him. They could both have their fill of it and then…

And then.

Well, Charles did not expect it to last, never had. It never did, which was for the better, Charles insisted to himself. Better for everyone involved. Still, even if it was short-lived it would be worthwhile. Going through this life trying to go without those sorts of connections no matter how brief was far more deadly than any physical harm that could be inflicted on a person. Charles knew that well enough. These intersections he sought out were like a sunset: only lasting a short period of time but brilliant while in the midst of their duration. A brilliant flash, a starburst. He had learned to appreciate what he got.

He supposed if Erik did not give in to his own desires it would be over sooner rather than later for he would not force himself on the other man. Deprived as he was, he was unwilling to go that far. The idea was painful to think about. This one he wanted. If it turned out as he wished, he would keep hold of the memories for a long time hence.

So he walked over to Erik’s study and knocked on the door and waited in anticipation. Impatient or not, for this he would wait.

**

It was reassuring to have Charles back in some ways, but not in others. Erik’s mind had spun through their conversation for the remainder of the night. Nothing could stop it, and he slept very little, not that it would have mattered for his dreams those days were full of Charles as much as his waking thoughts. He turned Charles’s words over and over again in attempt to rearrange them or project them in some different sort of inflection, but did not have much success.

He had been anything but firm-willed, he knew, as of late which was abnormal for him, but Charles bent him easily as a blade of grass in a windstorm, completely bowled over, helpless to its power. His attempts at resistance had been phantom at best and nonexistent at worst, and now here they were. The night passed and it became clear to Erik that he could not be so indecisive any longer.

It was a strange thing to think of, but if Charles’s interest did—somehow, miraculously—extend beyond the realm of friendship then the situation they were in was far less theoretical, not taking place only in Erik’s mind and thus unable to be let alone. He knew not what might have drawn Charles to him, but as Charles grew bolder in his declarations it became more and more difficult for Erik to wave off the notion that his feelings might be returned.

It seemed fanciful, but not entirely impossible. Charles was young, probably knew little of the world. It was a habit of young people to respond to any and all affection positively whether they truly felt the same way in return, or at least that had been Erik’s experience. He had made a fool of himself in his own mind when he was younger, confusing basic gratitude and positive response to attention with what he thought was a romantic connection.

With that fact in play, Erik began to think more seriously of Charles, and of everything. He had been caught up in his own mind, and it had not mattered when it was a private issue, but now it had grown into something that could be damaging if handled incorrectly.

Realistically, Erik knew he could do no good for Charles. He had known it the day he took him in, but he was too weak at the time to admit it to himself, too selfish. This was not a place where life prospered, and it was no place for a young man. He cared too much for Charles to allow him to get any closer. There was simply no outcome where things worked out between the two of them for so many reasons. Erik had come to terms a long time ago with the fact that his life was not one he would be able to share.

Or so he’d thought. Living practically alone in the midst of nothing but miles of grass and trees had worked well for many years, but loneliness was something that could only be contained, not completely eliminated. It was always within him, so it was unsurprising that he had jumped at the first chance in so long for it to be quelled, even briefly.

But no. It was no longer a debate. Once and for all, he decided that his feelings must be buried, if not completely disassembled. Charles was intelligent. He would come to his senses and—Erik hoped—leave this place and move on to better things in time.

Even if the decision hurt like a knife twisting in a wound, Erik stood firm on it, and the following night when a knock came on his door, he steeled himself and rose to answer it.

“Yes?” he asked, giving only enough space so that he could look out at Charles.

“Hello Mr. Lehnsherr,” Charles greeted him, per usual, amiable as ever. Erik forced himself not to slip up so easily. “How are you tonight?”

“I am well,” Erik replied, “but I do not have time for conversation. If you do not need something, I would ask you to be on your way.”

The shift that Erik always hated to see occurred then, blatant on Charles’s face, from his smile to confusion or something like disappointment. He rallied again after a few moments, however, and kept on. “No time whatsoever? How boring that must be. It does the mind well to take breaks now and again you know. I think—”

“Charles,” Erik cut him off like a slice with a sharp knife and he fell silent. “On your way.”

Charles blinked, his face scrunching in, almost angry. He pressed his lips together and Erik thought he might argue yet, but in the end he conceded, nodding sharply. He stepped back from the door and moved off away from Erik, only sending back one unreadable glance over his shoulder. Erik shut the door before he could see him completely disappear.

The interaction left a horrible taste in his mouth, but Erik forced himself to remember that he would have felt worse if he had not been able to stand by his own decision. Nonetheless, he did not get much done the rest of the night, finding himself staring out at the empty courtyard below his window more than anything else.

And so it went for the next week and a half. Erik returned to keeping contact between the two of them to a minimum, even more so than before. He no longer went walking through the halls at night, pretending it was of his own free will and really using it as an excuse to run into the other man. Charles made attempts toward the beginning of the time to speak to him, but Erik did not allow the interactions to go on longer than five minutes at most, claiming to have somewhere to be or something to do. (Truly all he was busy with was rereading the same letters and pages over and over again, absorbing next to nothing of what was written there, seeking distraction and not finding it.) After some time, they trailed off.

It was hell, truthfully, but clearly his actions were having their desired effect.

The worst of it was when Charles stopped speaking to him altogether toward the sixth day. They passed in the hall at night and Charles did not say a word to him, did not spare him a glance. He did not, however, bow his head. Instead he tilted his chin up and carried on as if Erik were merely an apparition, not truly there. Erik clenched his teeth and attempted to convince himself that that was progress.

He wondered how long Charles would last this sort of treatment. He did his work as studiously as ever, but Erik doubted he would stand for his behavior long. Erik almost wished he would make the decision to leave at last, to put him out of his misery. The self-denial was nothing compared to the knowledge that he was most likely hurting Charles. To see him on to a better place would soothe his self-inflicted wounds if nothing else.

It was for his safety, Erik reminded himself late at night, staring at the ceiling. Better this happen sooner than later.

Erik turned onto his side, fighting back the burn in his throat. He hardly believed himself anymore.

**

Charles was livid, perhaps more than he had ever been before.

Ten days of this treatment and his patience was at its end. Just as it seemed progress might be being made, Erik more or less leapt backward off a cliff, negating the upward climb they’d been through thus far.

Ten days of his hellos being met with closed doors and gruff dismissals. Erik’s excuses were thin as cheap parchment as well, making it all the more insulting. What did he think he was accomplishing with all of this?

Charles did not know, although he thought about it endlessly. Out in the garden, tending to the weeds, through the castle halls at night, staring into the fire after he’d retreated to his room: thinking, thinking, thinking. And getting absolutely nowhere.

Either Erik’s powers of denial were far more powerful than Charles could match or he had been incorrect in his assessment of Erik’s feelings. The latter did not feel right, but this treatment was causing his confidence to waver. This was a front, he knew, but to what end he was less clear. His brief attempt at returning the favor to Erik did little as well, not that he had expected it to.

Ultimately he could think of no recourse other than to do something desperate. He was rather proud of his own persistence, but sometimes, he was forced to admit, there were points when one could go no further. It made him half-sick to think that that was what this was, but there was a possibility.

The days were dreary and long and he did begin to think it might be time for him to move on. If Erik really did not want him around, there was not much reason to stay. The idea pained him to think about, but he didn’t see what choice he had. Still, he could not give in without one final attempt to mend things, to align them the way he _knew_ they were meant to fit.

At the very least he wanted to know for sure, to know that Erik did not want him. If that was true, it would make it much easier to go. Best not to leave possibilities behind.

All he could do was speak plainly as he knew how. No more adhering to social customs or formalities. His honest feelings were all he had left to give, no more flirtations or jokes. He would not be misunderstood. He would know the truth, even if he had to bare some of himself to learn it.

Erik would listen to him one last time and then he would hold their fate in his hands. All Charles could do was place his hope in the other man, and trust him to be gentle with it or, at the very least, give a clean break.

**

It was late at night when Erik escaped his study, as it always was as of late, later than anyone else stayed up certainly. The house slept and Erik moved, hiding in the shadows the night allowed him.

That night, however, there was light coming from the main hearth, an orange-red glow licking up along the sides of the stone, making Erik’s shadow stretch long behind him as he walked. It was always lit to give the space some light, and sometimes it was not put out by accident, so Erik did not think much of it other than that he must finish the task before heading off to bed himself.

Stepping into the room, he was not prepared for what he did find, although when the situation became clear to him, he was not too surprised. Charles sat perched in his chair in front of the fire, looking down into it. He turned when Erik came, staring at him as if he could freeze him in place with his gaze. Erik couldn’t read his expression. The light was wrong for it, too low. Charles did not move or flinch upon his arrival.

“You would do better to come over now,” Charles advised him, voice firm. “I’ll not let you go tonight until I’ve said my piece.”

It was bold to say such a thing, almost an order. Erik held his ground for a few seconds before he moved over to Charles, deciding it was not worth the trouble to argue. If nothing else he could stay silent. If this was what he thought it might be, he would rather not make Charles put it off. So he went, his steps heavy, over to the fire, standing over Charles whose expression did quirk slightly.

“Sit down, sir. No need to exhaust your strength by standing.”

Erik sat in the other chair, rarely used, set his candle to the side. Charles shifted to face him, setting his jaw. There was something determined about his expression Erik thought, more than usual. He braced himself as best he could, but nothing could have prepared him for what eventually came.

“You avoid me,” Charles stated, matter-of-factly. “This past week and a half, you have not spoken more than twenty words to me at once, and more often none at all. You treat me like a stranger, making up false excuses to avoid being in my presence, lock yourself up in your study and hide until you are certain I have retired for the night. Do you deny it?”

Erik’s brow furrowed at the accusations. They were true, obviously, but to be presented with them was to feel something twist in his chest enough to ache. He clenched his teeth, dropping his gaze. What could he do? To lie would be of no use. “I do not.”

Charles nodded, he could see from the corner of his eye. “Yet you watch me from the window each day, out in the garden. Not as often as you used to, but sometimes I still look up and see you peering down. I do not pretend to comprehend why this is, but I would like to.”

There was a pause as Charles took a breath, deep and long. It was enough to tempt Erik’s eyes back up to him. He found his face disarmingly open, softer than before, resigned almost. Erik found he could no longer look away, embarrassed as he was by Charles’s words.

“I wish to speak plainly,” Charles told him. “I’ll tolerate this treatment no longer, for I believe it is forced rather than natural. I’ll have no more misunderstandings on the topic of my own feelings, for I am stubborn in them now as I was the day we met.” Charles pressed his lips together, let his gaze slip down momentarily before it was back and burning brighter than the fire. “I do not wish to be only your friend, or your subordinate. Rather I want to speak with you as equals as often as possible. I want to walk these dark halls with you and the length of your garden, again and again if only to spend more time by your side. I want you to tell me of your work, to take me into your confidence.

Another breath. “I wish to be by your side, mind and body. Do not take this for a joke or attempt to twist my words as you seem wont to do. They are honest and clear. I want you, Erik, awfully. And to be kept from you any longer, if you return those feelings, is something I will not be able to stand.”

Erik did not respond at first, could not. The words confirmed what he had suspected, but to hear them from Charles’s lips was entirely different than thinking them. His heart, the stupid thing, fluttered wildly and his face felt hot from more than the fire. He struggled to keep hold of himself as Charles remained firm, tilting his chin up slightly, not giving him an out, demanding a response.

Erik knew the one he needed to give, although he worried to hear Charles’s response. He could not return the confession. Instead, he must end this here and now.

“I’m flattered,” he said and already he could see Charles’s expression shifting into a frown. “I enjoy your company as well, Charles, but I cannot believe that this is anything other than youthful fantasy. My own attentions may have been misleading and for that I apologize. These feelings will pass, I assure you, for they are but facsimile. You—”

“Do not presume to tell me how I feel,” Charles demanded, standing up all at once, stepping forward toward Erik. “I am no teenaged boy lusting after his schoolteacher. Your condescension has no place here, for the words you speak are false. I did not ask you to interpret, Mr. Lehnsherr. I asked for your own feelings in response. If they are truly nonexistent, then so be it, but if they are there within you, as I suspect they are, in equal measure to my own, I entreat you to let them free. Whatever shield it is you put up, cast it down. I will tolerate no masks tonight. Here and now we speak plainly.”

Erik startled backward. He had never heard Charles shout before. Such power existed in such a small form, coming out now and forcing Erik back. The words shook him and he could not help but feel as though Charles could see right through him and all his attempts to stop this. All of it was swept away and Erik couldn’t fight it any longer. Erik bowed his head and it was as good as any admission.

Charles huffed and collapsed back down into the chair. For a long stretch of time they sat together with only the crackling of the slowly dying fire between them. “What it is you fear?” Charles eventually asked, quieter than before. “Disapproval from others? There is not a soul in twenty miles of this place, and even if there were it should not matter.”

“It is wrong,” Erik said, the phrase deeply ingrained, easy enough to repeat whether or not he believed it.

Charles scoffed at him. “I thought you above the fickle tastes of society.”

“It is illegal.”

“I am not speaking with a lawmaker. I am speaking with you alone, two souls conversing above something so mutable as human law. Let us leave it out of this.”

Erik sighed, worn down easily, for he knew what Charles said was true. “Very well.”

“What then?” Charles leaned forward, eyes desperate. “What? If you pity me so, could you not at least give me some explanation?”

Erik leveled his gaze once more on the man before him. He was overcome as he always was looking at him. He wanted nothing more than to crush Charles into him, to accept his words, to let himself believe, to hold him and have him at last. There was a physical pain that came from staying where he was, but he bore it. Still, he thought he had to say something. He could deny Charles no longer.

“I do not pity you,” Erik insisted. “It’s because I care for you that I must clearly insist my own beliefs. They are as honest as your own, and I hope you will take them, even if they are incomplete. I keep you at a distance for your own safety. I have nothing to offer you, Charles. There is so much life in you and so little left in me. I could not bear to see you tied down here, this lonely place. It would be as terrible as caging a songbird and I could not bear it.”

Another breath. He must go on. “There are things which you do not know about me. I’m a private man for a very specific purpose. I could not tell them to you, but you would feel their effect nonetheless and there is no fairness in that. I have been selfish enough thus far and I cannot continue. I beg you to understand.”

Erik swallowed hard. The words had taken a toll, but he was glad to have them out.

A few moments later, rather than being faced with another reply, there were hands taking his. He flinched back from them at first, but Charles’s grip was firm. He’d come closer without Erik noticing, was kneeling before him. His hands were cold, Erik noticed, but solid and Erik grasped onto them in spite of himself.

Charles stared down at where they were joined, running his thumbs over the backs of Erik’s hands. “You think so little of yourself,” he murmured, frowning again. “It hurts me to think of it. If I could make you see as I do I would and you would understand.”

Erik frowned, frustrated all at once. “You see only the parts of myself I show,” he insisted, “as I said. I speak as I do because I know my whole self. It’s for your own sake that I push you away.”

Charles looked up at him, eyes wide and clear, lovely as a twilight sunset with the way the fire made his skin glow. Erik wished he was not so beautiful. “You do not know all of me either, yet you feel the way you do. What is here—” Charles moved one of his hands, touching Erik’s chest lightly over his heart and then drawing it back to his own chest as if attaching the two of them with some invisible thread. “—cannot be defined by our separate parts. It exists beyond simple words or earthly qualms. This I believe most earnestly.”

Charles took his hands again, tight as before, holding on like he might fall. “This is a decision you cannot make for me. I do not understand what risk you speak of, but you must trust in my will as you trust in your own. Please, Erik. Please.”

Erik squeezed his eyes shut and felt wet trails slip down his cheeks. The strain between how desperately he wanted this, how badly he wanted to give in to Charles—god, to hear him beg—and the knowledge that this could not last, it could not be, was too great. He could feel himself breaking and he knew this would not end in him proving his noble character.

Maybe it was inevitable as Charles said, but the fear that gathered along the edges of his mind was being chased back for better or worse and he knew all at once that he could not resist this. Even if it lasted only for a short while, he could not deny Charles any longer and he could not deny himself. All things cast aside, shadows and secrets lost to the firelight, there was only the two of them, and Erik knew what he wanted.

Reopening his eyes, he moved, tugging Charles up clumsily to kiss him as he’d wanted to since the night he found him in the storm, pressed up against the cherry red of his mouth and clung onto him as though at any moment he might be taken away. When Charles clung back with as much strength, if not more, digging his fingers in hard to his flesh and pressing back up against him eagerly, Erik felt some heavy weight lifted off of him, enough that he thought he might be prone to floating away if it were not for Charles’s weight on top of him.

For that night, in that moment, Erik shoved down lingering feelings of shame or fear or anxiety and hitched Charles up further against him. For now there was only the two of them and the night and the warmth from the fire and in Erik’s blood that only grew when he managed to pull back enough to kiss down the smooth line of Charles’s neck.

Charles gasped for him, solid and real in his arms, pressing up against him and leaning down to kiss Erik in return, slick and messy and wild, and it was all Erik could do to not be completely overwhelmed.

**

They kissed for what felt like a short eternity but still was not long enough for Charles. He clung close to Erik, partially for fear of being pushed away again, and allowed himself to drown in the starburst ecstasy that came from finally attaining an object of desire, having it and holding it for the first time. Fortunately, Erik clung on as well and seemed to have no desire to let him go, keeping the two of them pressed together like two sides of a book closing up to be whole again.

Charles was incredulous still that he had managed what he had. Erik’s own misgivings went further than even Charles suspected it appeared, to the point where he thought he was _protecting_ Charles from something. He could not begin to understand the meaning of it, and he had not feared much for a very long time, so it was of little consequence.

The result was clear: Erik’s feelings were the same as his own and for now they could indulge in their mutuality. Whatever it was that Erik feared would be dealt with in the future, if it existed at all. Sometimes looking down on oneself made it so you could see many imagined shadows and dangers where not a one existed.

But Charles had no desire to think about that right now. Logic had no place here and he was glad to chase it out after more than a week of wallowing in it. It had been some time since he had touched someone and he was determined to take full advantage.

Erik did eventually pull back which Charles allowed, but only barely. He thought he might return after a few moments, but this time the detachment seemed more permanent. Perhaps he had something to say. Charles took the time he spent waiting to look Erik over, cataloguing, remembering. His eyes had become quite dark, the irises eaten up almost entirely. It made him look far less serious, far less proper, and Charles liked that very much. His breathing had grown heavy, his face flushed, and his hair was mussed where Charles had grasped onto it. It made Charles want to see more of him, to watch him let go completely. It was difficult after a first taste to not want more.

Charles brought his hands up to cup at Erik’s face when he remained quiet, taking the chance to keep contact between them. “Finished are we?”

Erik met his eyes, holding his gaze steadily and Charles couldn’t help but shiver. “Not at all. But for tonight, yes, perhaps.”

Disappointment rose in his chest, but Charles nodded and dropped his hands back down. It was late, after all and he had little expectation that Erik would want to rush ahead. The trick now would be to keep him from receding back within his doubts. So Charles got to his feet, somewhat unsteady, and moved to sit down closer to the fire. It was, admittedly, a relief to stretch his muscles after staying so long in the same place. He beckoned Erik to follow after him and the other man came easily enough, settling down beside him on the rug.

Charles leaned heavily against him and sighed. Erik stiffened but did not budge him. A few patient seconds and there was an arm tight around his shoulders. Charles didn’t bother to bite back his smile. “To think what you could have had if you had been bothered to listen to me some time ago,” Charles teased him. When he glanced up Erik looked sufficiently chagrined but also like he was thinking about just that, which was rather the desired effect.

Erik caught him watching soon after and gave him a vaguely disapproving look. “So bold tonight. Should I expect such verbal lashing from here on?”

“Only when necessary,” Charles corrected him. “I think you would protest it more if what I spoke was false.”

Erik scoffed which was as good as agreement. There was a short pause wherein Charles could almost feel Erik’s mind beginning to churn again and bit back a sigh. “What now?” he asked, more serious than before.

Charles pulled back, turned to face him. “What now? Now you must court me properly and I must do what I can to give you hope without trampling on my own honor or giving away my purity with too much haste.”

“Purity?” Erik echoed, freezing Charles with the sudden intensity of his gaze.

It was somewhat surprising when Erik moved to push him back, down onto his back, but Charles went without much thought, letting himself go pliant underneath him. Erik moved so he was ranging over him on hands and knees, stalking like an animal. Charles ached at the sight, frantically desperate again for Erik to have all of him and to have all of Erik in return. He relaxed against the cold stone beneath him, letting his head fall back, baring himself. When Erik leaned down to press up against Charles’s neck he found himself having to bite back a noise that threatened to well up from his chest.

He wished for the sharp press of teeth or the slick warmth of a tongue or countless other things, images, fantasies that rushed into his mind. He yearned to be kept like this, caged in, held down, and stripped bare. He yearned to see the want in Erik’s eyes, even greater than before. He yearned for wet heat, coppery passion, on his tongue, down his throat—

Charles snapped his teeth together and forced his mind to stop in its tracks, mentally berating himself. Something so simple should not be so dangerous. It was different this time, however, which he knew well enough, but knowing and understanding were two different things, rarely acquainted. Charles forced himself to refocus, on Erik’s warmth and weight, on the beating of his heart and the way the fire curled around the sharper lines of his body.

All Erik did was kiss at his neck before he pulled back once more. “The more I know of you, the more certain I become that there is nothing pure to be found,” he said, defeating Charles’s attempts to regain control in one fell swoop.

Charles only smiled at him. “That I cannot contradict.” He hoped, distantly, that Erik would change his mind about stopping so soon, that he would give in and sate the fire that was lighting Charles up from the inside.

The look he received in response was dark, full of intention, but Erik’s will was far stronger than Charles’s own and he broke off to stare the floor, huffing as though he’d been out running. “You tempt me so.”

Pride sparked at the words and Charles stretched out further, trying still to lure him. “Then deny yourself no longer,” he suggested. His words sounded like a plea, more so than he had meant for them to, but there was nothing to be done for it. “Take me back with you tonight, take all of me, Erik please, I beg of you. You are not the only one you leave wanting.”

Charles knew he was fraying, want clouding his mind completely, but he was powerless against it. He had tossed himself into this headfirst and now all he could do was wait for Erik to join him. For a moment Erik pressed down against him, lovely pressure and weight, but it did not last long.

“No,” Erik said, cutting off that particular hope, rough but firm. He climbed off of Charles and Charles mourned the loss even as he took the hand offered to him. “You are worth more than this.”

_It is not about worth,_ Charles thought irritably. _His self-denial rivals that of a monk._ But there was a determination to Erik’s face, more final than before, and Charles sighed, allowed himself to be tugged upright once more. “Very well.”

Erik laughed at him which did little to lighten his spirits. “Do not look so dejected. It’s only been one night.”

Charles thought to tell him how he’d been thinking incessantly of this for more than a month and exactly what he did when those thoughts came to mind, but he held his tongue. His mind felt scattered, tossed about the room, and he could still feel where Erik had touched him, and was touching him still, their legs pressed together as they sat. Still, he knew there was something yet he must say. “You must promise me, in that case, that this will extend beyond tonight alone. I must have your word that I will not wake tomorrow to find that you have shut yourself back in your room and imagined this to be some dream.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Erik took his hand in both of his and that alone was more reassuring than any answer he could have given. He held it very gently, Charles noticed, as if scared he might hurt him after all. He wondered why that simple gesture made his chest feel so tight, filled with something he could not name. “Yes,” Erik said, low like a secret. “You have my word.”

Charles took it and squeezed at Erik’s hands before moving to get back to his feet. “Come along then. I’ll hold you here no longer.”

Erik walked him back to his room, which was unnecessary, but not entirely unwelcome. Charles had half a mind to pull him inside anyway, but resisted, stepping through the frame on his own. “Goodnight,” he said, giving Erik another small smile. “Until tomorrow.”

Erik nodded, clearly uncomfortable with this new sort of interaction, although it was endearing on him. (Then again, Charles thought that most things were endearing when Erik did them, so this was not novel.) “Until tomorrow.”

Erik was not, however, too overcome with his own nerves to kiss Charles again before he went on his way. It reassured Charles further for he could taste the heat he thought they might have left by the fire still in Erik’s mouth. When Erik did finally depart for his own room, Charles hated to see him go, but it did little to diminish his pride at having succeeded in his task or his anticipation for what was still to come.


	4. Chapter 4

“What is it that makes you happy, Mr. Lehnsherr?” Charles asked from where he was sprawled carelessly across the couch in Erik’s study, not bothering in the least to sit up and speak properly.

Last night it was Erik, but today again it was Mr. Lehnsherr, Erik noted, unsure how to feel about it. (How Charles had come across his first name he did not know, but he was not particularly surprised at him knowing it. He felt as though Charles was capable of near to anything if he put his mind to it. With that ability, a name would be nothing.) It was the least of his worries, however.

It was raining outside, coming down in buckets. It had been since early that morning, making it impossible for Charles to go out and work. He had offered but Erik had loathed the thought of sending him out in the downpour. There wasn’t much he would be able to do in the first place and he knew it, meaning he had asked only to get Erik’s reaction. Ultimately, it had been to give Charles and everyone else the day off to do as they pleased for the sake of equality.

That had created an issue for Erik in that about an hour later Charles had shown up at the door of his study without the slightest intention of leaving anytime soon. Instead he’d thrown himself on the couch across from the small hearth and that was where he had stayed since, attempting intermittently to draw Erik into conversation from where he was sitting at his desk, listening to the rain patter on the window behind him.

Erik was still recovering from the previous night, although he was not sure what to expect his eventual condition to be afterward. Part of him, no matter how he fought it, was still unsure about all of this for many, many reasons. It muttered at him now and again, especially when he looked over at where Charles was stretched, draped with shadows from the overcast day, and the image made his cheeks heat. The rest of him was still riding high, excitable to the point of it making him nervous. To have finally held Charles, to have kissed him—it was more than he had ever imagined.

It made it very difficult to stay focused because he wanted more. He felt awakened by the fire and Charles’s lips on his, his being brought back into consciousness and now he was overly aware of Charles in particular, what he was doing, how close he was. Some part of his mind that he felt hadn’t been active in years and that he hadn’t particularly missed for how incessant it could be kept demanding to know when the next time he might touch him would be. It was so much noise in his head as to drive him mad.

Untangling it would take weeks, even months, he thought, but there was a singular cord at the end which, if followed, led to a strange feeling, one he hardly recognized, so bright was it. Hope was there after all, and along with it happiness and while it felt very breakable Erik could not help but marvel at its presence, and how Charles had managed to draw it out of him after so long without it. He could not remember the last time he’d looked forward to the upcoming day, since he had seen time as anything but something that passed with no inherent value. Now, however, he was anticipating the days to come, for better or worse.

That was why he could not bring himself to remove Charles from his space. He was tired of attempting to disguise that fact that he wanted him there, and now here he was, despite all odds. Erik still worried this might be a flight of fancy on his part, but right now he was staying, as he had these past few months.

Staying and posing ridiculous questions as he was often wont to do. Erik turned the page of the book in front of him, forced himself to say something in response. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I wish to know more about you,” Charles said, as though it were obvious. “And because I have been given a day of leave and wish to spend it talking with you, even if you insist upon making it more difficult by pretending to work. I dare say you have not read a word on that page for more than a half hour.”

He was right, but Erik wasn’t about to give that up so easily. “Some of us are able to work through the inclement weather and do. You may talk if you wish, but as I am occupied I cannot guarantee responses of any value.”

Charles sighed. “That much I could have deciphered on my own. I do wish you would give up that front and come sit with me, but I shall not force you. And if you’ll not answer, I suppose I will have to imagine a reply for myself. Surely if I say something you find displeasing you will correct me.”

Erik bit back a smile. “Surely.” He wanted to know what Charles would say and he was determined to hold out for some time longer for the sake of his pride, even if he longed for nothing more than to go sit nearer to Charles, to be close to him again.

“You enjoy the quiet,” Charles began thoughtfully, “for you seek it out at all costs. You like being out in nature and walking, which I whole-heartedly agree with, although you lock yourself up in this castle more than one would expect from someone who finds peace in the trees. You like books, as I can tell from the hundreds which populate your walls and I wish that you would tell me which ones you prefer.”

“So that you might judge me by them?”

“Yes.” Charles was smiling again. “And so I might read them if I have not. I wonder if you like music. Do you? I feel it might annoy you if it’s not a certain type.”

That was true. Charles was eerily perceptive as ever, but at least books and music were harmless enough. “I enjoy orchestral music well enough, but I have little patience for opera, nor do I care for the folk hymns some seem fond of.”

“So you dislike singing?” Charles asked, the question half-hidden by laughter.

“Only because it is something which every person seems to believe they are able to do even if they have had no training. One is not prone to picking up a violin and attempting to strum it, thinking themselves so naturally talented as to have mastered the skill without effort. The same cannot be said for singing.”

Charles’s smile spread at Erik’s response and he tilted his head back further, baring more of his neck. Erik watched the movement closely. “Ah I see. Your point is sound, but I believe it lacks some depth. I have not found singing to be something that people do solely for the purpose of showing off skill. Often is an expression of joy, and therefore attention to tune is not so important.”

“There are ways to express excitement without harming the ears of others,” Erik pointed out.

“So stubborn! It is rude to not even consider my point.”

“It is rude to ask me for my opinions only to criticize them,” Erik told him, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“I have to entertain myself somehow. But very well, I concede. I will not sing in your presence, even if the urge is overwhelming.”

In spite of himself Erik almost wanted to hear Charles sing, just to see how it would sound, but that desire he kept for himself. He turned back to his papers, endeavored to absorb the words rather than continue their verbal rally.

Charles took that as his response and continued on alone, not put off by his silence. “In that case I will return to my task. What else might bring a smile to your face, I wonder…”

His words trailed off into thought and Erik again gave up his attempts at productivity, so futile were they. He looked up again, eyes draw automatically across the room. Charles was pliant on the couch, spread across it as naturally as a blanket. The dull day did little to disguise the fine lines of his body or the chestnut curl of his hair or the shock of color that was his mouth. Erik looked more closely now that Charles was not able to remark upon his examination.

Erik noticed where he never had before that Charles had a scar near the base of his neck. It would be hidden by his collar generally, Erik thought, but now he saw it clearly. It did not look a mere scratch of his skin, but purposeful, dark now even though it was healed. It was an odd place for a scar, Erik thought. It appeared as though it would have been painful to receive.

It was a unique enough observation that Erik could not help but voice it. “You have a scar,” he pointed out.

Charles sat up to look at him and the shifting of the fabric of his shirt around his neck hid the mark once more, but Erik could still see the ugly coloration of it in his mind. “What?”

“At the base of your neck,” Erik said, indicating the spot on himself. “Your collar covers it. What happened to cause such a mark? It looks like it might be painful.”

A strange look passed over Charles’s face and he brought his hand up, slipping it beneath his collar, presumably to touch it. His smile faded for the first time in a while and Erik almost regretted bringing it up. For a moment Erik thought he might offer an explanation but all he did was put up a forced curve of his lips. “It is an old scar. I hardly notice it anymore. Does it bother you?”

That was not a proper answer in the least, Erik noted, latching onto the subject more than before. He wanted more than ever to know what it was that Charles hid, so avoidant as he was, from the first night until the present, of personal topics. “That is not what I meant. Scars are a part of you as much as any other. How was it you received such a mark?”

Charles held his silence for longer this time. Erik set down his pencil and turned fully toward him, anticipating an answer, but again he was left wanting. “I don’t think you have much right to ask questions, sitting as you are across the room,” Charles said, voice steady but purposefully so. “If you wish to talk after all, set aside that pride of yours and come closer.”

An ultimatum, or an exchange. Erik considered it, but the decision took little time for he knew that he would have given in one way or another in time. He would play along in hopes of gaining the knowledge he sought.

Erik went to close his books, stack his papers, and stand. When he glanced up Charles seemed caught off-guard that he was capitulating, eyebrows high on his forehead. Erik crossed the room, leaving the low, hazy light coming from the window behind to stand near Charles. After a moment, the other man rearranged himself to make space for Erik to sit which he did, settling on the opposite edge of the couch, not letting Charles out of his sight any longer.

Charles cleared his throat. “Now we may have a conversation.”

“Yes,” Erik said. “I await your answer to my question.”

Charles pressed his lips together and did not meet his gaze which was exceedingly rare. It was almost always Erik’s role to look away first. Charles rarely looked down or away. “Of what interest is it to you?” he asked, quieter now, peering down at his hands resting in his lap.

“I wish to know you as well,” Erik told him, firm in his tone, leaning closer since Charles was disinclined to close the distance between them. “You have told me so little. I assumed it to be a harmless question.”

That drew Charles’s eyes briefly, a flash of sapphire. “I insist that it is uninteresting.”

Erik frowned. To have such qualms over a scar was strange indeed. It baffled him that Charles would be defensive over it. What could it be that he felt the need to hide it? “I insist that I am curious nonetheless. Why do you shrink back from me suddenly?”

That drew Charles’s gaze again, back to Erik quicker than he would have expected. There was a coolness there that he didn’t recognize, although he thought it was hiding something else. “Must I give a reason for not wanting to speak of it? It’s my business.”

“Are you ashamed of it?” Erik demanded, irritated that he was putting up such a fight over something so small. He was frustrated too by Charles’s reticence when he seemed to do nothing but attempt to pull information from Erik’s lips whenever possible.

“No, sir,” Charles snapped, heat in his voice where it hadn’t been there before, insolent anger. He sat up straighter now, tilted his chin. “I would ask you not to make such baseless accusations.”

“Baseless? What other reason might there be to hide a mark? It is only a scar. You act as though I am demanding you confess a crime.”

Charles clenched his teeth and Erik almost swore at him, the prideful little thing. “You would force an answer out of me then because you are unable to respect my wishes.”

Erik pressed down on his own rising annoyance. “Perhaps. You do little else other than attempt to pry answers from me day and night, yet when I ask harmless questions in return you turn cold. What fairness is there in that? Hypocrisy is not an attractive trait.”

The young man’s lips curled into a grimace and his eyebrows drew down. For a moment he did not respond which made Erik think he had struck a chord, some truth to all of this, and he was glad to be right, justified in his pressing on. It lasted only for a few brief seconds, however, before the silence of the room became deafening after the way they had both been steadily raising their voices, the rain outside doing little to break it up. Guilt came then, particularly sharp when Charles turned fully away from him, down toward the floor, using his shoulders as a barrier, hiding his face.

Erik sighed, his irritation turning in toward himself for taking satisfaction in shouting at him. He’d grown paranoid after many years, and as was yet uncomfortable with how little he knew of Charles. Still, that was no reason to press on the boy’s old wounds. Whatever story was behind that scar was most likely a painful one, that was all, and he wished not to relive it. Erik dug his fingers hard into his leg in reprimand.

“I apologize,” he said, forcing the words. “I have gone too far. More than anything I want to know you, Charles, but it’s not something I ever want to force. You need not tell me anything if you do not wish it.”

Charles let out his own small breath, turned back toward him somewhat. Slowly he brought his hand up again to press it against his neck as if to cover the mark. “It is not a day I like to remember, for the time afterward brought with it much ill.”

Erik nodded, taking the answer for what it was. He looked down as well, bowing his head. “I’m sorry for forcing thoughts of it upon you. I will speak of it no more.”

Charles lifted his head at last. It was hesitant, but the steadiness of his gaze was there yet again. “Thank you.”

The pause stretched again and Erik knew not what to do. He thought it might be best if he left Charles be, but he was unsure. In the end, Charles broke it by moving back closer to him, closing the distance and pressing up against his arm. Relief flooded through Erik, both at being close to Charles again and because he appeared to have been forgiven.

“I should not have called you a hypocrite,” Erik murmured, attempting again to adjust to Charles’s proximity, the feeling of him flush up against his side.

Charles offered him a rueful smile. “Perhaps not, but the accusation was not entirely unfounded. I think we are very much the same.” He took Erik’s hand again, threading their fingers together. Erik was struck by how perfectly they fit. “Both of us hold secrets close to our hearts, some more private than others, and both of us are curious about the other’s. That is bound to make for some conflict of interest, I suspect.”

Erik felt there was great truth to that. He squeezed Charles’s hand, lifted it to feel its weight. “How do you suggest we move past this obstacle?”

“Trust,” Charles replied, letting his hand be held up, putting up no resistance, “which must come with time. And perhaps an understanding that not all personal information need be locked away, but some things must remain so and should be respected.”

Erik pondered that. “That is fair. However, tell me you will not turn away from all my inquiries. What is yours I will let you keep, but know that what you choose to share will stay with me and no one else always.”

Smaller fingers squeezed his own and Charles nodded his head, tilting it back afterward to look up at him. “You have my word, and my reciprocation.”

Erik was struck again by how much the opinion of himself that the young man before him held weighed upon him, and how glad he was to be back in his favor. In the same vein, despite their agreement, he yearned to know everything about him, down to the very base particles from which he was formed. He wished to be this close and closer, and he did still wonder what had caused such a scar, not only on his skin but on his past.

But Charles was right. Time would be the key. Erik refused to use his position of power to lord over Charles. He wished to earn the knowledge naturally, as he wished to earn everything else that Charles was willing to give him, so for now he let it be.

Awareness of the rain rushed back in to fill the quiet now that it was not so overwhelming. Erik turned toward Charles, bending so he could press his lips back against his neck, unable to help himself. Charles made a small sound, but did not push him back. Instead he curled against him, unfurling like a lily in the sun.

Erik pressed small shower of kisses up against the skin before him, daring to move further down. He would keep his promise and not speak again of the scar, but that did not stop him from wanting to comfort the hurt it had caused, which left him few options. As it was, all he could do was brush over the rougher skin, same as the rest, gentle as he could, tend to it with careful touch.

He pulled back afterward to make sure he had not ventured too far. There was something bewildered in Charles’s eyes, but they were soft, so he did not think another mistake had been made. Erik reached a hand up to brush a lock of hair back from Charles’s forehead, sliding his fingers in amongst the rest while he was there and holding on, looking him over.

Charles tolerated the separation for mere seconds before he was leaning up to rejoin their mouths, his own response in a silent conversation. Erik replied promptly by not pulling back. Soon enough all thoughts of the rain and the work he should be doing and the conversations they had yet to have and the scar had faded from his mind, cast off for the afternoon. Eventually they would return, but it was for another time.

**

Charles dug his fingers into the dirt below him in an attempt to break it up some before returning to the shovel he’d set aside for the moment. He was working on digging up an old rose bush past its time. It had been bothering him for a while, with its barren brown stems, all crooked thorns and lifeless leaves, the abscission natural but far from pleasing to look at. He had asked Erik if he could pull it up and been granted permission, and so he’d gone about it.

The sun was high in the sky that day, no longer hidden by clouds as it had been recently, beating down. Charles begrudged its presence only slightly. It wasn’t doing him any favors by drying out the earth once more, but seeing how it was nearer to summer each day, the rain was by far less expected. It mattered little as the dirt moved easily enough for him. Once he had breached the surface he could again use his shovel and from there the task would be tedious more than anything else.

His mind wandered as it often did as he worked, a side effect of a job that required more physical effort than mental. Its usual path ended predictably in a repetitive orbit around Erik. Sometimes he thought of the trees or the time passing or other frivolous things but his thoughts were dissatisfied to stay and rest long on those topics. So Charles thought of Erik, a subject which he was seemingly unable to exhaust completely.

Their relationship currently was mutable, shifting easily as sand, caught in transition. Between their late night before the fire and their afternoon in the rain, there was much that had been said and much to be considered. Some of those things excited him, and others, admittedly, made him wary.

Charles jabbed his shovel down into the earth, pressing it further with his boot to scoop up more of the dirt. This plant had lived a long life for deep were its roots still buried into the ground, almost like a tree. It made him wish he could save it, but there was nothing that could be done. It was past the point of revival and, let be, would sit until it rotted with time. The best thing for it would be to dig it up, so Charles continued.

Erik had spoken of secrets, sharing and coveting, and of wanting to know. It was a reasonable notion, Charles knew, although not one he had encountered much before. Most of the others had been eager enough to take what he was offering them, usually not so easy to come by, and be on their way. Charles didn’t begrudge them their shallowness. It was safer that way, in any case. But Erik would not be satisfied with so little and for the first time Charles wondered if he could give enough to content him.

Part of him was certain he could not. There were things that Erik could not know, for both of their sakes, and while he claimed he would allow Charles to keep them for himself, Charles was unsure that would last. Some things he could say, and would. Some he could supplement with harmless ideas, additions that would fulfill Erik’s need for answers without revealing too much.

Hypocrite he surely was. There was truth to it and always had been, he supposed, one he did not believe he could outgrow. His desire to know of Erik was just as strong as before. It was not a lack of sympathy which held his tongue, that much was certain.

It would be a game of wagers, although, he supposed, in some ways it always was. There was no other way to get by. He would hedge his bets and hope it paid off, as always. This was a risk he was willing to take, that much was clear to him.

Erik was trying as well. He was less hesitant than Charles thought he might be, eager to touch and initiate when he wasn’t keeping too firm a hand on himself. A hand on his waist, from time to time, or his shoulder more often. Fingers in his, intertwined, very often. It appeared to be a type of touching which Erik allowed himself freely, innocent enough. Kisses too, some quick and chaste, some not, on his lips or his face or the top of his head or, god, sometimes down his neck—

Charles jerked back from the line of thought, focused again on the woe-begotten rose bush. Those thoughts were not particularly productive when he was attempting to work, he knew that well enough. He bent down again to tug at the base of the plant, almost free from its hold on the dirt.

Yes, Erik touched him, more than he might have thought considering his original hesitance, but it wasn’t as if he did not enjoy it. The small touches made him yearn for more, more of Erik’s hands, more of his lips, more of his skin, more of his smell and his taste—

Charles cursed at himself, although it was difficult to not be amused by how easily he was distracted, evidence of his want. He wished Erik would not be so damn proper about it all, that he would give in. That would make everything much easier indeed.

But Erik was patient, insistent on whatever sort of courting he felt necessary before he would take Charles back to his bed—and he _would_ take him at some point if Charles was going to suffer waiting so long for something as insufferable as etiquette—so Charles stayed with him in this in-between time and space, taking what he was given and being glad for it. It was only politeness anyway, he knew, nothing more that drove Erik’s questioning.

Charles tugged one last time and managed to rip the rose bush up once and for all. It was heavier than he might have thought and he set it down once he’d gotten it up, letting out a breath from the exertion and dusting off his gloves. He looked the full plant over, glad to have gotten it out.

“Got it up, did you?” a voice asked, causing Charles to startle and spin.

Erik jolted as well at Charles’s reaction and Charles let out a breath, realizing it was only him. The relief lasted for mere moments before he moved to tug his cloak more firmly around himself, not having expected to see him. The last few days he had been coming to meet Charles outside near sundown to walk, but never before had he shown up in the middle of the day like this. He must have been walking very quietly for Charles to not notice him.

“Yes,” Charles forced himself to respond. “Not too difficult.”

Erik blinked, settling as well and glancing down at the bush and back to Charles, looking him over as he often did. Charles didn’t mind it usually, but at the moment he was less keen on the attention. “Still, it must have taken a good deal of effort. Are you not overly hot in your cloak? When it was cooler it seemed more necessary, but now I wonder that you continue to wear it always.”

Charles wished Erik were not so perceptive when he most likely didn’t mean to be. He fought to the urge to tug the heavy fabric in further yet, insisting to himself that it was fine where it was. Best to distract him if possible. “Are you asking me to undress, Mr. Lehnsherr?”

Erik flushed which was quite amusing to see and Charles smiled, the sight chasing off some of his anxiety. He frowned, disapproving after he had gotten past the initial shock of the comment. “I would ask you not to twist my words.”

“I do not think that I was,” Charles said. “You suggested I remove my cloak, and therefore that I undress. I attempted to confirm that statement, nothing more. Any deeper meaning you find is yours alone.”

Erik’s expression grew tighter and Charles’s grin grew wider. He loved to play with Erik like this. His reactions were wonderful. Still, he thought it best he not push too far. “I wear it because I am rather susceptible to the cold,” he said, “even in the summer.”

Erik considered the answer and appeared to accept it, glancing down. “I see. I _have_ often noticed how cold your hands are even when near to the fire.”

Charles nodded along, happy for the corroboration to the line.

And so they could move on. Charles supposed that could work, if he was clever enough and Erik was willing to trust what he said even if it was strange at times. The pause between them grew while Charles waited for Erik to tell him what he needed or continue on with the conversation. If he had not wished to talk then he would not have come outside, after all.

In the meantime, Charles noted that in the sun that he could see the shade of red in Erik’s hair. In the dark it appeared brown, but here in the light it was more clearly auburn. The lighter color suited the pale clarity of his eyes, Charles thought, softened the set of his brow and firm lines of his jaw. He was always handsome, but the fact was reinforced now. It was not unlike seeing a favorite painting in a new light and remarking upon it anew.

Erik’s eyes eventually returned to his. “I had only come to see how your project was progressing. That bush had been there for some time, so I wondered if you would manage to wrench it up.”

That seemed like an excuse, but Charles thought he would not remark upon it. “I am stronger than I look,” he told Erik instead. “Its roots were deep, but their strength was gone.”

Erik nodded, looking down at the misplaced plant again, somber despite the bright blue of the day around them. Charles supposed he knew the feeling. It was bittersweet to see what was once a beautiful thing strewn out dead on the ground at their feet.

“Do you have any preference for what I might plant there instead to take its place?” Charles asked.

Slowly Erik shook his head. “I will trust your judgement. I believe you have a better eye for this than I. Plant what you will; I leave the choice up to you.”

Charles nodded, strangely glad for the agency. He felt almost as though he owned the whole garden now and again for all the freedom Erik gave him with it. He did enjoy having something to care for, which relied upon him for life. It was a novel feeling. “Very well. I have some ideas.”

Erik granted him one of his rare smiles. It was a small thing, but it was there. Charles would like to see it grow and spread across his face one day for he thought it would be something to behold. “I thought you might.” He returned to his usual expression then, shifting on his feet. “Well, I will let you continue your work.”

While he was a bit loath to see him go, the brightness of the sun still overhead reminded Charles that that was most likely for the best, so he nodded once more. “Until tonight.”

Erik cast one more lasting look at him. “Until tonight,” he agreed, and then he was off, back toward the manor.

Charles let him go, happy enough with the response. He certainly took some tension with him. Charles allowed himself to pay less attention to his cloak now, not hardly as concerned with keeping it where it was, and turned back to the rose bush, letting his thoughts wonder once more beyond his own nerves to flowers and small gratitudes and everything in between.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a knock on the door an hour or so after Erik had shut himself up for the night, which was abnormal, particularly since he was in his room and not his study. He contemplated ignoring it, but eventually gave in and went to see who it was, although he had his suspicions.

Sure enough, he opened the door and there was Charles, looking as he usually did when he made his way into Erik’s study for the night. Admittedly, this was the first time he had called upon Erik here, but it didn’t require much stretch of the imagination to think that he would try here next after not finding Erik in his usual spot. He looked somewhat concerned, Erik noticed, and kept his hands tucked behind him.

Erik bit back a sigh. He should have expected as much. “Yes?”

“I thought you must be here when I found your study empty,” said Charles.

“I am here,” Erik agreed, then waited for Charles to go on. He was still somewhat bitter from earlier that night, and did not feel completely comfortable inviting Charles inside anyway. He did not trust himself at all to take the young man into this private place of his.

“Why shut yourself up so early tonight?” Charles asked, staying where he was in the doorframe. “I came looking for you after supper and now find you already in bed long before the moon is high enough in the sky to warrant it.”

“I had invited you to eat with me and you declined,” Erik pointed out, attempting to keep the irritation at that fact out of his voice and not succeeding very well. “I took it to mean you had other occupations tonight.”

“You shut yourself in here because you’re annoyed at me for refusing your invitation?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow and Erik immediately regretted bringing it up the way he had, although it was partially true. Charles’s smile appeared, probably in response to Erik’s reaction. “Honestly. I only refused because I like to spend dinner with the others. I hardly see them, you know. The time after that is yours.”

_You could not leave them for one night?_ Erik thought but decided he would only sound more foolish if he mentioned it. Erik stood up straighter, determined to gain back some ground. “I asked you tonight because I knew I would busy most of the rest of the night.”

Charles hummed, not appearing much like he believed him. “Busy in your room?”

Erik clenched his teeth. Truthfully he did not have the mind for Charles’s teasing at the moment. “I will be out again tomorrow night,” he said, figuring it best to tell him directly. It was what he’d meant to say at dinner anyway.

Charles blinked, comprehension gathering in his expression. “To get the mail,” he said after a short, considering pause. He eyed Erik quite directly as he spoke.

Erik forced himself to keep his expression still. “Yes.”

Slowly, Charles nodded. “I have never known a man who needed to prepare so thoroughly to receive the post,” Charles commented, his gaze penetrating once more.

Erik pressed his lips together before he spoke, gathering the right words. He thought to retort back in the same fashion, but in this case he decided it would be better to be candid. “I have told you before that this is something I would not have you look into. This business I keep for myself. I ask for you to respect that, as I have before.”

Charles’s expression shifted, away from playful to something more solemn. For a moment Erik thought he might object, but ultimately Charles accepted the boundary. “Very well. I will leave it be. However, I worry for you, you know, going out in the night the way you do. You did not look well last time you returned. Why ever it is you must go, or to where, I hope you will be more cautious. Many things can get lost in the dark, and I would rather you not be one of them.”

The words were more grave than he was used to hearing from Charles, but occasionally he would say something along those lines that made him sound older than his years. Erik felt a pang of guilt and a shock of surprise that that was what was on Charles’s mind, but there was nothing to be done for it. It was true, in any case, that he needed to be less reckless this time around. “I will be more wary. That I can promise you.”

Charles nodded, his face softening as he raised it once more to Erik. “If you are to be gone tomorrow, I should like to spend tonight with you, if you would have me.” He removed his hands from behind his back then and Erik saw that he had been disguising a wine bottle. He held it up now for Erik to look at, smiling crookedly at him like a child who knew they’d done something wrong but was attempting to get away with it by being endearing.

Erik cocked an eyebrow at him. He must have swiped it from the kitchen. It was surprising he’d found it at all seeing how Erik did not keep much drink around. He had little taste for it for many reasons and he doubted that using it with Charles around would be wise. His inhibitions were low enough as it when it came to the other man.

As for the request to talk…

It was conflicting, the idea of inviting him inside. He supposed talking a while would not hurt and might put Charles at ease some in the future on nights like this. He thought of asking them to move to the study instead, but feared it would be too revealing. Ultimately, it was beyond him to refuse the earnest request.

“Come in,” Erik told him after some further internal debate, stepping aside, “but leave the bottle be.” He held out his hand for it and Charles gave it over easily enough, hurrying inside as if afraid he might be shut out if he took too long.

Erik clenched onto the cool neck of the bottle and shut the door behind him, effectively closing the two of them in. He was concerned by the finality of it. When he turned he found Charles looking about, searching the room like he was being made to memorize it. Erik attempted not to think on it too much and moved to set the bottle aside somewhere out of reach.

“You don’t like it then?” Charles called. “It was one of the only things in your cupboard, unless there were stronger spirits elsewhere, better hidden.”

“I am not much a fan of drinking,” Erik admitted. “I don’t have a taste for it, I’m afraid.”

“That’s odd of you,” Charles pointed out, still standing in the middle of the room. It was surreal to see him there, something novel amongst the familiarity that ordinarily crowded the space. He seemed pleased, perhaps at having been let inside, and lovely, but Charles was always lovely.

Erik shrugged, not bowing to the masked invitation to explain himself. “You are welcome to drink if you wish.”

Charles glanced over at the bottle, but his eyes did not rest there for long. Soon they were come back to Erik. “If you are disinterested, then I am as well. It is little fun to drink alone.”

That much Erik knew. It was something of a relief to hear and he nodded. Afterwards he became uncertain of what to do. Erik kept his room for sleeping, for the most part, so there was little about to help handle a guest, only one chair near the hearth and it was more utilitarian than comfortable. Erik more often used it to stack books upon.

“It’s a lovely room,” Charles said, peering around again. “I like the colors. Red suits you, I think. And the books as well…” Charles moved over toward the shelves, tilting his head up to see the volumes resting there. He raised a hand to stroke at one of the spines and Erik watched his fingers closely. Charles turned and smiled widely at him. It caught him off guard and Erik fought to keep his expression steady. “Thank you for inviting me in.”

Erik nodded, feeling strange once more, standing as he was as if rooted to the floor, awkward in his own space. “Sit, if you’d like,” he suggested, gesturing over toward the chair vaguely.

Charles nodded which was a relief but he did not pay much mind to Erik’s guiding gesture. Instead he moved without hesitation over to the bed, settling onto it and remaining perched there, looking comfortable as could be. Erik pressed his teeth together to keep ahold of himself.

He had unbuttoned his shirt some, Erik noticed, perhaps from the heat of the day although he had mentioned before that he was often cold. Maybe the heat was too much for even him that day for Erik could see a smooth patch of pale skin down below the loose fabric of his collar. His vest hung open as well. He looked as though either he had dressed in a rush and not completely finished or as if he’d been caught in the process of disrobing. Erik was not sure which one was better to focus on and ultimately chose neither.

“It’s a beautiful night out,” Charles said, glancing off toward the window, not taking notice of Erik’s dilemma. Erik had pulled the shades mostly shut but there was still some moonlight streaming through. Erik frowned at it and the reminder it brought. “So bright. You could walk the woods and see every tree. The moon looks closer on nights when it’s full, have you noticed?” Charles turned toward him again, suddenly earnest. “Do you think that it does get closer?”

Erik forced himself to focus on the question and not the subject of conversation. Forced himself not to correct Charles on his assumption of the date. “I would not know,” he said, still frozen where he was, halfway across the room. “I know little of the heavens.”

Charles pursed his lips, turning back toward the window as if he was truly debating it. “I think perhaps it does. Either way it’s wonderful. I used to think that if I tried hard enough I could reach up and touch it.” Charles mimed the motion, stretching his hand up above him toward the ceiling and the banisters of Erik’s bed. “I thought it must feel very soft, like silk, for it was so shiny.”

Charles’s tone was wistful, Erik thought, for childhood maybe though Erik still could not believe that it was so far away for him. Slowly Charles lowered his arm and turned back around. “Come sit with me so we may talk,” Charles beckoned, patting at the space beside him.

Erik stayed where he was for a few moments before he went, half against his will. He did not know what else he could do but go, although he knew it was a horrible idea. Step by step he closed the distance between them, approached Charles and his nostalgic musings. He sat on his bed next to him, sinking down into the mattress, nervousness pressing down upon him.

Charles smiled, satisfied. There was no darker edge to it however which Erik thought there might be. It was a friendly smile instead and it helped to put Erik at ease somewhat. “I suppose we all think strange things like that when we are young.”

“Yes,” Erik agreed, settling back. “Children have very active imaginations.”

“Even you?” Charles prodded. “For all that you are serious now, I suppose even you must have thought some odd things at one point or another.”

Erik had. He hadn’t thought of them in some time, however. His mind rarely wandered so far back, but he tread that worn path for Charles, reaching, seeking, remembering. “I used to think that all animals must be people,” Erik recalled. “At least at some point.”

Charles raised his eyebrows, leaned in closer to Erik who could not tell if it was purposeful or mere interest. “That is, they used to be people? What did you think happened to them?”

“No,” Erik corrected, embarrassed suddenly by his younger self’s ignorance and wary of exactly why he’d thought it in the first place. “I mean I thought they changed back and forth. That sometimes they were people and sometimes they weren’t.”

Charles blinked his big, curious eyes at him, trying to understand which was ridiculous considering it was the imagining of a child. “I see. But why would they want to be pigs if they could be people? Not just pigs, obviously, but it’s an example.”

“I don’t know,” Erik said, suddenly determined to change the subject. “I don’t remember. It was silly. I did not understand that things could be different than me.” That was more telling than he had meant it to be, but thankfully Charles did not press further.

“Not sillier than wanting to touch the moon,” Charles pointed out. Suddenly his lips quirked up and he was smiling at Erik again. Erik wondered if he knew just how powerful that expression was. It was making it incredibly difficult for Erik to not lean over and kiss him. “I like thinking of you as a child. It seems like a contradiction.”

Erik frowned. “We were all children at some point. It’s not that strange.”

“I know, but it would be amusing to see that serious face of yours on a little boy. I suppose you would have scoffed at make-believe.”

That was not entirely true. It was strange to be remembering those days so long ago so suddenly, but they were rushing back to Erik as Charles spoke. He remembered sunlight and another smile, this one softer, but no less wonderful. Long springs and difficult winters. He stopped himself there. There was a reason he did not think much on the topic.

“Not always,” was all he offered Charles who did grow somewhat frustrated with his lack of response. Still, Erik could spot a convenient subject and thought he might try to use it to his advantage. “I have often wondered where it was that you grew up,” he said, “and how it led you here.”

Charles’s grin turned crooked. Erik supposed he could see right through him, but he did not flinch back. All he could do was hope—desperately hope—that Charles would choose to provide him with some sort of answer for once, even if it was incomplete. For a stretch of time he was silent and Erik was aware of their proximity and position, unable to shake the thought. He swallowed and almost wished he had taken advantage of the wine.

“I grew up far from here,” Charles finally said, looking down at where his hands rested in his lap. “The journey in between was long indeed.” Again he looked up at Erik, something shifting in his expression. “I know you wish for me to keep going, and I want very much to ask you more. Would you agree to an exchange?”

Erik furrowed his brow, shifted on the unsteady surface below him at how directly Charles was looking at him. “What are the conditions?” he asked, in spite of himself, not wanting to appear too cowardly and mildly intrigued.

“It will work like a game,” Charles suggested, leaning toward Erik again. “It will be an exchange of information. One person asks a question, the other answers, and then the roles switch. You will be allotted two free passes to refuse to answer a question. If you use them all up, the game is over.”

Erik considered it. So it would be a game of pride, and judging worth. He supposed it seemed safe enough. For all that he was generally magnanimous, Erik knew Charles was no stranger to pride. The idea of at last gaining some knowledge of this man before him was too great a temptation to refuse. If necessary, he would lose, he thought. It would be worth it. “Very well.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Charles said. “The game is also over if one person catches the other person in a lie.”

Erik pressed his lips together at the addition. It put an element of dishonesty into play which he was unsure of. “Why can we not just talk normally?” he asked.

Charles’s smile grew wider. “Because that would be much less fun. Do we have a deal or not?”

Erik wished he could say that he debated it long and hard, but the decision was a simple one. He took Charles’s extended hand and shook it. “Alright. Who starts?”

“Me,” Charles said, ecstatic over Erik’s agreement and not bothering to hide it. He scooted closer to Erik, turning to face him. “Since you just asked one.”

“You did not answer it completely,” Erik objected, exasperated and amused in equal parts at how Charles bent rules and created them at will.

“It was too vague!”

“That was not a rule.”

“It doesn’t matter since we were not playing then.”

“If we were not playing then what reason can you give for you asking the first question?” Erik demanded.

Charles raised his eyebrows up into his hairline and it was such a dramatic expression over something so silly that Erik had to bite back a laugh. “Are you courting me or aren’t you? It is only polite to let me go first.”

Erik could not argue with that logic, so he allowed Charles to go for the sake of starting within the hour.

“Where did you grow up?” Charles asked immediately, the words rushing out of him like a fast current down a river.

Almost immediately Erik thought of being vague, or saying something not entirely true, but Charles’s blue gaze was so intense and he was desperate enough for the game to not end so quickly that in the end, he was honest. “Here,” he admitted. “I have lived in this castle all my life.”

Charles’s expression grew softer with more honest surprise, but all he did was nod. “Go ahead,” he prompted when Erik didn’t say anything.

Erik recovered and waded through the deep pool of questions he had about Charles. Better to start simple he supposed. “What did your parents do for work?” He theorized that it was a simple enough question to get a clear answer and from it he might infer what social class Charles came from once and for all.

“Nothing particularly exciting I’m afraid,” Charles told him, not taking much time to think about his response, causing Erik to believe it must be true. “My father was a baker and he owned a shop in town. My mother married him for love rather than wealth, or so I was told and I think it must have been true for her family was well-off, more so than my father’s, and did not approve of him entirely.”

Erik nodded, parsing the information. It seemed about right. Not so well-off as to own an estate—it would not make much sense for Charles to be wandering around as he had been if that were the case—but well-off enough to not be in servitude and with wealthy relatives to make it so he was not opposed to speaking his mind to those in higher positions. More questions stemmed from that one, a growing tree of inquiry in Erik’s mind, but he knew he had to wait his turn.

“Who lived with you here?” Charles asked, quick as before, eyes glimmering with the prospect of gaining what he sought. “You live alone now but surely that could not have always been true.”

Erik had been concerned that that might be his next question. It hurt to think of, but ultimately the answer was not dangerous, so he forced it out. “I lived with my mother. She stayed here with me until she passed many years ago and I inherited the property.”

Charles’s expression clouded over with comprehension. “I see.” He reached out as he often did and took Erik’s hand which he gave over willingly. Admittedly, that was one wound that would not close, and he did not think it ever would. So he let Charles hold onto him, let him stroke cool fingers over the ridge of his palm, touch and company for the first time since. “I’m very sorry, my friend.”

“Do not worry yourself over it,” Erik said, the phrase compulsory. He curled his fingers up to cage in the ones still pressing into his palm, hold them there. “It was a long time ago.”

“Maybe,” Charles said, quieter than before. He was serious again, expression soft as his voice and his touch, “but the hurt in your eyes looks recent.”

Erik bowed his head, for it was true, even if he did not want to put words to the feelings. It would give them back some of the power he’d spent years wresting from them. They were there, that much he acknowledged, but that was more or less all the contact he wished to have with them that was not brief or accidental.

Charles gave him a moment of silence wherein he brought up his free hand to join their other two, holding on before he spoke again. “Why stay here? Why not sell the property rather than keeping it up all on your own?”

Erik forced a smile onto his mouth, pulling out of the darker corners of his memory. “You’ve already asked your question. You will have to wait before you may have another.”

Charles frowned, petulant when he saw that Erik was correct. “Fine,” he sighed. “Go on.”

“You’re the one who set the rules. In a normal conversation your pace would have been acceptable,” Erik reminded him, wanting to bring to lightness back into the space between them.

Charles pressed both of his thumbs into the center of Erik’s palm. “Ask your question, Mr. Lehnsherr,” he demanded and Erik pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t smile.

“How did you end up all the way out here?” Erik asked. He yearned to learn more of Charles’s childhood, but his curiosity as to their current situation was just as great.

A strange look passed over Charles’s face. “I will pass,” he said, surprising Erik, “unless you rephrase that.”

Erik didn’t see what he meant. It had not seemed a very personal question. He tried again, thinking perhaps it had been too vague. “How did you end up on my doorstep that night in the middle of a storm?”

“It was accidental,” Charles explained, apparently less put-off by the second attempt. “I was walking along when it started and there was nowhere else to take shelter. It was a strange storm. Ordinarily I am better at knowing when to have a place to seek shelter, but I was caught off-guard. There was nothing else to do but continue on, so I did until I stumbled across this place. I had little to lose by knocking and seeing if someone might pity me enough to grant me a place to stay until the rain passed, so I did, and now here we are. I think you must remember the rest in between.” He gave Erik a curl of his lips, but it was subdued.

He was avoiding the time before he arrived, Erik noted. There was a gap in his words which he stepped around by not mentioning his business being so far out in the first place. He would need to step around it too, he supposed, if he wanted to get anything of value out of Charles. He did have some time to consider that seeing how Charles was next to ask.

“What was she like?” Charles asked after a moment’s consideration. “Your mother.”

Again, Erik was taken aback, not expecting the question. With the way Charles had been speaking before he assumed he would be the one having to use one of his passes, but it seemed that Charles was as confounding as ever in his thoughts. “She was…” Those memories were attached to the others, but they were brighter, the lit match at the tip of a candle, glowing in his mind, warm and familiar. In some ways that made them more disarming.

Erik took a moment to gather himself before he spoke. “She was very kind, immensely so. She was intelligent and resourceful. I thought she must know everything in the entire world because whenever I asked a question she always had an answer. She taught me everything I know. These books are hers, really, or most of them are. She was more forgiving of me and everyone than she should have been.”

More memories were pressing up against his mind: bright walks in the woods behind the house on summer days, nights by the fire spent listening to her voice as she read to him, racing across the short distance to her room when the castle seemed too large and frightening all on his own. Erik felt strangely young and exposed. “She gave me more than I could have ever returned had she lived long enough for me to try.”

“She sounds lovely,” Charles murmured, squeezing at his hand again.

Erik swallowed back the ache in his throat and fought the burn in his eyes as best he could. He did not want to break down so in front of Charles. It was a weakness he was not particularly ashamed of, but he did not think it would do him much good to show it.

“I’m glad to hear you had someone here with you, at least for some time,” Charles said, having enough good grace to not comment on Erik’s silence. “This place is very lonely. I noticed it as soon as I arrived. I hate to think of anyone here alone.”

Erik could only nod, too caught up in the past to pay much attention at the moment, although distantly he was grateful for Charles’s kindness on the topic. There was a pause then wherein Erik could hear the wind blowing outside and the crackle of the fire and a quiet exhale from the man next to him. Eventually he thought he had reinforced enough walls to look back up and speak normally.

Charles was looking back at him, eyes gently searching and sympathetic. There was something there, Erik thought, some sort of knowledge. It made Erik think that Charles must have grief of his own. Erik knew that the only way to understand it was to experience it. Otherwise it was not unlike looking through a window, blurry and distant.

Part of Erik thought he should try to lighten the mood, but he was tired of stepping around uncomfortable topics. If they were here to talk, then it would do no good to pretend otherwise. “Why do you stay here?” Erik asked, meeting Charles’s eyes. “It is not a nice place to be, as you yourself admit, but you stay of your own free will and have from the beginning. I have never understood it.”

Charles seemed oddly confused by the question. His eyebrows pulled together and his expression grew dubious. “I stay for you,” he said, as if that were simple. “Of course I stay for you. I always have. That you refuse to comprehend that fact is beyond me.”

Erik was drawn back to the present where he had still been floating along the past, back to the situation at hand: Charles here in front of him, sitting next to him on his bed, in his room, grasping onto him. They were very close to each other, Erik noticed, closer than he’d realized, not quite touching but that would be exceedingly simple to change.

It had been a long time since this place, his home for all that it came off as unwelcoming, had seemed alive, and Erik knew what, or who rather was the cause of that change. Erik, too, he thought, had not felt his heart beat so quickly perhaps ever.

Charles seemed to noticed the shift as well, something in the air between them that made it seem thinner, harder to breathe, and he smiled at Erik. Erik had never seen the ocean before, but he thought that it must look like Charles’s eyes at the moment, fathomless in depth, incomprehensible and inviting enough to want to drown in.

“Your turn,” Erik prompted, taking his hand back and rubbing over the places he could still feel Charles’s fingers on his skin like a mark, as if he could press them in and keep them there.

Charles nodded, slowly retracting his own hand back to his lap. He looked down for a long moment and Erik felt anticipation surround him like suffocating air on a muggy day. When he looked up he was no less enticing. “Do you want to touch me right now?”

Erik pressed his teeth together. Arousal unfurled in his chest like a starburst, practically unbearable. He could not help but run his eyes along the lines of Charles’s body, from the jut of his ankles to the curve of his shoulders. Erik saw the secret scar again and thought that he would like to press another mark next to it, one of his own for Charles to remember instead.

He dared not lie, for he knew Charles would see through him. Part of him wondered why it was Charles asked questions to which he already knew the answer. He thought to opt not to reply, but in the end he was unable to do anything but concede.

“Yes,” he said, the word practically pulled from him.

Erik did not know what Charles would do next, but he thought something would happen, surely. He was mistaken, however.

Charles did nothing more than nod, taking the answer and tucking it away, not acting upon the admission in the least.

Erik felt the sting of denial acutely, and though he knew it was his own fault in many ways, he could not help but resent it. He knew well enough that he could do something. He was able, certainly, but he would not, and Charles knew it too, which he supposed was the point. So, he bit back the ache inside of him, and held the stalemate steady. Charles gave away no indication how he felt on the matter aside from gesturing Erik on once more.

The questions grew more tame afterward, and remained that way for some time, circling around tastes in literature and music which they had discussed before. Still, Erik was not averse to it and he was almost grateful for the innocuous nature of the topics. The night crept on as they spoke and he knew that he should send Charles off, get to bed, but he could not bring himself to. Truthfully, he did not want Charles to go, though what he meant to achieve by keeping him there, he knew not.

Charles made no move to leave, settling back further onto the bed, stretching out his legs and his neck now and again after sitting for so long, no less tempting even as he spoke of key signatures and the usage of synecdoche. He was the one to drive conversation back toward more personal grounds.

“What is the research you do about?” he asked, leaning forward again, always interested to hear the answers he was given. “That must be what you do all day in your study, reading and writing always.”

Erik frowned for that was not something he could say. “I must refuse to answer,” he admitted.

Charles frowned as well. “Surely not over something so simple.”

“My work is private,” Erik said, determined to move on from the topic, “and you have allotted me fair chance to decline to answer.”

Charles seemed to accept the lack of response slowly but surely. “Very well. That curiosity lives on another day.”

Erik wished it wouldn’t, but there was most likely nothing he could do about it. “What of your interests? What do you wish to do with yourself? Surely gardening cannot keep you occupied forever.”

Charles tilted his head. “I do not mind it, as I’ve said before. But I have mentioned that I would like to travel. I would also like to study.” He said the second part as though he had not been expecting to voice the desire. “I’m interested in the advancements in the field of biology particularly.”

“Biology?” Erik asked, not having been expecting the answer.

“I’m fascinated by living things,” Charles admitted, ducking his head somewhat. “I would like to learn more about them someday. I read, obviously, but not as much as I would like.”

Erik’s immediate thought was that he could help Charles go to school if that was what he wanted. If it was money he needed Erik had it, and he would more than willing to give some of it to a good cause. “You would like to go to university then?”

“You’ve had your question,” Charles objected, raising an eyebrow, “but yes. However it is not a path down which I can tread.”

“Why not?” Erik asked.

“Save your question if you still wish to ask it until your turn next comes around, sir,” Charles said rather than answering. “You are not particularly adept at following rules.”

Erik forced back his frustration at the curt response. Charles was right, but that did not make it easier to hear. He dug his fingers into his thighs and nodded.

“Why is it you cannot tell me why you go out so late at night to get your post?” Charles asked and continued when he spotted Erik moving to object. “I do not inquire what it is you do or why. I simply ask after the nature of whole clandestine affair. You have one pass left, you remember.”

But if he used it the game would be up and he would not get to ask Charles further about the university conundrum. Charles had trapped him into a corner. Erik would have thought it very clever if he was not the one facing the consequences of the manoeuver. He could not help but scowl at Charles who was very obviously biting back his own grin.

“Proud of yourself are you?” Erik grumbled, irritated by the situation.

Charles ducked his face but Erik could still see the white of his teeth well enough. “The choice is in your hands. I’ve forced you into nothing.”

Erik wished dearly that he could say he was more angry than he was impressed by Charles’s intellect and strategy but it would be blatantly untrue. There was annoyance, yes, but it did little to diminish his attraction to the other man. _Clever little thing_. The decision was conflicting. The question was dangerous, riding the edge of too close for comfort, but he was desperate to know the answer to his own question which he suspected Charles would not give up after this if the opportunity at hand was missed.

Ultimately, Erik took the risk, reaching out to tilt Charles’s face back up because he couldn’t help it. “Very well, you sly creature, you’ll get what you’ve earned.”

Charles grinned widely at him, tilting his face to rest more fully in Erik’s palm. “I am ready.”

Erik bit at his cheek, wishing he did not find it so endearing. He knew he needed to be careful with his words now and could not afford to be distracted, although with Charles that was all but impossible to avoid. Still, for this, Erik would focus. He ran Charles’s question back through his mind, judging how much he might get away with saying or not saying.

After a moment’s consideration, he took a deep breath and began. He held his hand where it was, touching the soft skin of Charles’s face. “I told you once that I kept you away from me for your own safety and that holds true now, though I have done a poor job of keeping my distance. It is not something that I wish to do, but it is something that I must do. It is dangerous, simple as that. That is as much as I can say.”

Charles leaned up against his hand and looked him over thoughtfully. Supposing him disingenuous? Or deciding if the answer was worthy of being called such? Erik did not know, but he allowed Charles to lean up against him either way and held still to be observed.

He wondered, as he often did, what might happen if he told Charles the truth, but he could see no optimistic outcome to the idea. His mother had told him as much when he was very young and he held it close to his heart even now as the truth. Honesty had no place in such things. Charles could not know.

Part of it was selfishness, Erik knew, but that he could not help. As long as Charles stayed here before him, came to him, spoke with him, smiled at him, allowed himself to be touched and courted and kept, Erik would keep him. And perhaps that was weakness, but he felt that there must be very few things stronger than his want for the other man.

“I understand,” Charles whispered in time, bringing a hand up to rest over Erik’s. “Thank you. I did not think you would answer. Even if your reply was vague as ever it was more than I had expected.”

“It is as much as I can give,” Erik told him, firm in his words.

Charles nodded, accepting and closing his eyes, letting Erik hold him. Erik did, as gently as he was able, pillowing his face. “Ask your question. You’ve earned it.”

As always an uncountable number rushed forward, some more nervous than others, some heavy, some light. Nonetheless, Erik was caught on his earlier question. He had a feeling that Charles would not answer it, and it tempted him to consider something else, but ultimately he decided he would risk it. If nothing else it might bring them back to level ground, both having refused to answer one question.

“I could help send you to university,” Erik told him, “if that is what you want. If it’s funding you need, I could provide it.”

Charles’s eyes drifted open, slowly as if he’d been sleeping for some time. He looked at Erik with a piercing, unreadable expression for a long moment. “That is not a question.”

“I know. But I wanted to say it. It does you no good to stay here. I would much rather see you expand your horizons and your knowledge and build a life for yourself that you could enjoy.” Erik knew the consequences of that, but for the time being he ignored them. He got few opportunities to do something good, and he thought he ought to take them while he could.

Charles coughed out a laugh in response, startling Erik into pulling back, dropping his hand. Charles leaned after it but did not chase him far. Stranger yet, afterward he seemed somber, his shoulders down, his face less bright. “It’s a very kind offer, but I do not wish to take your wealth from you. It is not a lack of resources that keeps me from pursuing that goal, in any case, I assure you.”

“Then why?” Erik demanded, more desperate than ever to know.

Charles turned only to give him a small sad smile. “You will not like to hear it, but that I cannot say.”

Erik sighed, having expected as much but no less disappointed for it. The hand on his leg came as another surprise, so deep was he in theories of what that could mean. Charles squeezed at his thigh gently, left his hand there even afterward.

“I do not mean to be so rude in deflecting such a gift,” he said. “I truly appreciate the offer, even if I have no desire to accept. I do see you thinking over there, so let me be perfectly clear on the matter. I am not here to seduce you into paying my college funds. That much you must assure me you know.”

Erik couldn’t help but smile at the precaution, even despite the refusal. “I believe you.”

That drew some light back into Charles’s eyes. Erik could still feel his hand on his leg, a tangible weight and presence. The night was drawing on, he knew and, spotting the beams of moonlight streaming in over Charles’s shoulder, although he could easily talk with Charles until dawn and enjoy himself probably far too much, he knew this was not the night to do so. It was time this conversation was cut short. Erik suspected that they had both given enough of themselves for one night. Such honest words did not come easily after being so long buried. Digging them up took effort and showing them off more yet.

“The night grows long,” Erik said, forcing himself to return Charles’s hand, picking it up by the wrist and placing it back down on the bed. “I think the game must end here.”

Charles’s face fell. “But neither of us has lost yet.”

“We can continue it later if you wish,” Erik told him, although he was not so sure that was a safe promise to be making. “But for now I must insist we part ways.”

Immediate agreement did not come from Charles which was not unexpected. Instead the young man frowned, glancing around the room another time, all the way around in a sweep until he returned to the bed. He ran his hand over the top of it, across the red coverlet fabric underneath. “Even if you do not wish to talk any longer, that does not mean I must go.”

Erik took his meaning well enough and again had to push back the wave of desire that had been lingering nearby for hours, waiting for the next opportunity to strike. “Yes,” Erik said, “it does.”

Charles’s frown deepened and he curled his fingers in the fabric as if meaning to hold on. “I have learned much of you tonight, and I am glad to have done so, but I cannot begin to comprehend your need to torture both of us so. Nor can I understand how you could think to invite me into your room and not even deign to press your lips against mine once in all the time I have spent here.”

Erik clenched his fists where they rested in his lap. He didn’t think he could explain it to Charles if he tried, for it often seemed illogical to himself, but he could not help but feel it right to wait. Jumping toward the opportunity to do as Charles said would make him feel worse than he already did, practically exploiting the boy as he was.

It was tempting to kiss him then, as it always was. That was a constant need, a mantra in Erik’s mind, to touch him and kiss him and look him over. But he thought it would be far too easy for it to lead to more, considering their current position, so he held back. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”

Charles pressed his lips together, clearly unimpressed though he did sit up straighter, moved as if he might leave. “One question more,” he said instead. “Before I go.”

Erik bit back a sigh. “Very well.”

Nodding his thanks, Charles continued, turning back to Erik as he often did when he spoke. “Do you truly wish for me to leave? Truly?”

Erik forced himself to look back and to respond. “Yes.”

Charles smiled at him, the smile of a man reassured in what he knew. “That, sir, is a lie.”

Erik froze, not having seen the trap this time around. He was right, of course. It was a bald-faced lie. Erik wanted nothing more than to roll Charles over, pull him deeper into his bed and keep him there for the rest of the night, tomorrow be damned. He burned with the idea and in the end, it was too much for him to contain. “Yes,” he admitted.

When Charles moved back toward him, Erik did just as he’d been imagining. He pulled the man into him and rolled them so Charles was on his back with Erik ranging over him. Then, for some time, he lost track of himself completely as he had the first night before the fire. He leaned down and all but devoured Charles, their mouths sliding together messily enough to be obscene. Charles spread his legs the same way he had before, but this time Erik made use of the opening to slide in flush against him, pressing in enough to clearly feel the outline of his growing arousal.

He reached down and grasped on to Charles’s thighs much as he had wanted to for longer than he could remember, digging his fingers into the soft flesh he found there and hitching his legs up around his waist. It knocked a gasp out of Charles, but all he did was reach up to wrap his arms tight as a vice around Erik’s neck and pull him back down to continue their kiss.

The feel of their bodies together was sublime, even with the barrier of their clothes. Erik rubbed up against Charles helplessly, completely unable to stop now that he’d begun, clung onto him, sliding one of his hands up to grasp onto his waist. Charles responded incredibly well, moving beneath him, wonderfully solid and alive, pressing back and moving his hips.

Erik broke off, unable to help himself, trailing kisses down the side of Charles’s face, down his neck to the scar at the base. He bit beside it as he’d wanted to before and Charles _moaned_ for him, the noise deep and ragged and sounding nothing at all like an objection. Erik forced himself to not press too hard, not wanting to hurt him, pulling back to lick at the small wound instead until Charles tugged him back up again.

Charles was saying something, he realized, having been lost in the taste of the other man for some indiscriminate period of time, the feel of his lips and tongue. He pulled back, bringing his free hand up to card through Charles’s hair which was splayed out haphazardly around the top of his head. “Please,” he was saying, Erik realized, “please” over and over again.

Erik shoved up against him with more force, helpless in the reaction it caused. His blood was singing with this, all his pent up desire rushing forth. He could feel clearly how hard both of them were and sought out rough, simple friction because of it. He wanted Charles now more than ever, feeling him beneath him like this, so willing and open. His eyes had grown darker with lust, his lips more scarlet than ever, almost blood-red from attention, and Erik thought he’d never looked so handsome.

What could it hurt if they were both willing? It had been so long since Erik had last had this, had last had someone to touch like this, who turned toward him and asked for more of what he gave and he was ravenous for it.

In that mindless state, rutting up against each other while their hands wandered freely seemed like the logical thing to do and Erik was ecstatic over it. Charles made more small sounds against his mouth and he wanted more of them, careless over who else might hear. He wanted Charles to moan for him, to lose himself in pleasure, to have the knowledge that it was Erik who had caused it. He wanted more and more from Charles, everything, all of him.

The need was all but overwhelming, and it took Charles tugging at his shirt to get it off of him for his common sense to snap back into place like a shock of cold water.

Erik pulled back forcibly, angry with himself immediately for giving in so easily where he’d been holding out before, and for letting this go so far. They were half undone already and at the rate they were going, he would not have been surprised if—

He cut the train of thought off, drawn back by the awareness of Charles trying to pull him back down, closer again, still moving his hips. Erik ached to see him this way, rumpled, splayed out in his bed, as wild with want as Erik had been mere seconds before and he could not help but lean down to press another more chaste kiss against his lips.

The contrast from their messy earlier kisses seemed to grant Charles some awareness back and he blinked blearily up at Erik. “What…? What’s wrong?”

Erik steeled himself to hurt both of them once again. It had to be done. Tonight was not the night for this. It could not be. He was too on edge as it was, and both of them were tired from staying up. “We must stop,” he said, pulling back further, forcing himself to his feet where he stood unsteadily. He was aware of his persistent state, but tried to ignore it.

Charles reached after him, but did not sit all the way up, falling back down onto the bed. He stayed there, splayed out, legs open, up against Erik’s bedspread, unselfconscious. Comprehension descended upon him, followed by what looked to be irritation. “So you would leave me like this,” he said, voice hot with the anger Erik had expected to find. “You will not even deign to finish what you’ve started?”

Erik stood firm. “Not tonight, Charles.”

Charles glowered at him briefly and Erik longed to shrink from his gaze, but he lasted it. Fortunately it did not linger long, transferring into disappointment and rejection. Slowly he sat up, refusing Erik’s help as he did, rearranging himself somewhat although he did not bother to make himself look much less indecent. “I begin to think that you do not want me after all,” Charles said softly, almost contemplative.

Erik bit down on the dual urge to console Charles and shove him back down onto the bed and do what a braver man might. “I do,” he said, unable to be dishonest. “I want you desperately, if that was not clear, but tonight I have no more to offer you.” He ached from the denial, the cool air a burn on his skin, and he was sure Charles was much the same, but he did not back down.

Charles sighed, reaching down obviously between his legs, pressing his palm down in a firm stroke. Erik watched, feeling his mouth go dry and his own erection swell against his will, even as he suspected this to be a final effort to draw him back. It almost worked. He felt like a fasting man being presented with a feast, the pain of it physical, but he did not move.

Something like acceptance finally settled over Charles and he bowed his head. “I’ll accept your choice, but I wish for once you would take what you were given rather than nonsensically denying the both of us over and over again. I feel it cannot be healthy.” Slowly he got to his feet, less steady than Erik who had to fight to not place a hand on his waist to help him.

He crossed the room, back toward the door to grab the wine bottle as he went, and turned as he reached it. “I wish you safe travels tomorrow,” he said, serious for all that his clothes and hair were irreparably disheveled. “I would also advise you to not begin things you do not plan to finish. It is in poor taste. Seeing as I have some matters to attend to, I must bid you goodnight.”

Erik absolutely did not think of what those matters were and instead allowed Charles’s other comments to scald him. He supposed he deserved it. “I cannot disagree with you. Goodnight Charles. Congratulations on winning our game.”

Charles’s expression shifted briefly at Erik’s words and he left before it could settle. Erik was somewhat content knowing he did not look quite so upset any longer. When he was gone, Erik slumped heavily against his bed. All parts of himself were yelling angrily at the moment, which he had expected. There was no peace to be found with what he’d done, but, looking again out the window, he could not bring himself to regret it.

Guilt, irritation, shame and more swept in in Charles’s absence. That along with his mind spinning around all he had learned and fresh memories of Charles up against him were more than enough to be exhausting. However, it did not surprise him much that when he managed to settle enough to lay down, he slept hardly at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, although I think you'll see when I post the next chapter (which I'll probably do sooner than later because I'm pretty excited about it ovo) why I wanted to keep the next bit together at the cost of cutting this one a little short!

Back in his room Charles stroked at himself roughly, disinterested in taking his time or being gentle. He was close enough as it was, so it mattered not. The whole process took him what would have normally been an embarrassingly short amount of time, but tonight it was just a relief to be done with it.

He pulled his clothes off for the night, shirking his vest and trousers, half inclined to leave them on the floor, but eventually bending down to pick them up. Setting them aside, he collapsed back onto his own bed. From the side, he glared at the wine bottle he’d brought back with him, wishing that it would be anything other than useless to him. He could certainly do with some alcohol at the moment.

Charles did not know how to feel other than immensely frustrated and, yes, a little hurt. The night had gone so well, far better than he would have thought when he’d first approached Erik’s door with the slim hope that he might be invited in. He had learned more in one night than he had in months before, and then, even for a short period of time, Erik had given in and pressed him down into the mattress and rubbed up against him and he’d thought that finally, this must be it.

But it hadn’t been. Erik had somehow achieved the impossible and pulled back. Charles had been half-tempted to yank him back down forcibly, so long had it taken him to get the other man up over him in the first place. Instead he had taken Erik’s refusal again and been forced out on his own, unsatisfied. He was not sure how much more of this he could take.

Charles could still feel where Erik had bitten at his neck. He rubbed his fingers over the spot lightly, avoiding the rough skin beside it and shuddered at the memory. A small part of him was tired of this back and forth, but what kept drawing him back were things like that. Rather in spite of himself, he felt more stubborn in his cause than ever.

 _He’s close to giving in_ , he thought. _A bit more patience will do it_.

At the very least, he hoped so, and that was enough.

Rather than stay longer on the subject, his mind moved restlessly to what he had learned about Erik, his upbringing, his mother. His theory was that his mother’s family had owned this place and now Erik felt responsible to care for it. It would make sense that he felt no desire to leave it if that were the case.

Charles hated to hear of the grief he still felt, but he was grateful Erik had shared it with him, at least somewhat. It was a burden better carried by many, Charles knew. He wondered what it had been like, growing up here, what Erik had been like, what his mother had taught him. His mind ran over with the thoughts and he spent the night full to the brim with even more questions he had yet to ask.

The next day was slow to pass. He did not see Erik in the morning, nor in the window, and by the time he came inside after a long day of pulling weeds that had abruptly invaded one of the patches of garden near the front of the house, he was already gone. Charles sighed, having expected as much.

He made his way over to the window where the two of them used to stand sometimes together and looked out at the night. The moon was brighter than before, he noticed. He had thought it must be a full moon last night, but perhaps this was it. Better to have light on his journey than full darkness, Charles supposed. He did hope that Erik would be more careful with whatever dangerous thing he did. For many reasons the idea of him coming back injured once more drew fear to him, cool and clammy.

In the distance the trees knocked at each other in the light wind, pushing back and forth, and Charles spent longer than he’d meant to watching them. It was not as though there was much else for him to do, the night before him noticeably empty. When he did finally turn to leave he did not head back to his room but paced the same path as the night previous. Once again, soon enough, he was in front of Erik’s door.

He stood wondering if he should move on, but ended up pushing at it instead. He found it unlocked which was somewhat surprising. He debated only a moment before he stepped back inside and closed the door quietly behind him. The room was as red as before, strewn with maroon and scarlet. Charles had not expected it of Erik, but the deep color suited him well. It was quite tidy, all the books in orderly lines, the bed made, the towels stacked.

Charles walked over to the small hearth next to the bed and bent to light it. A couple of tries with the matches set off to the side of it and he managed to get it going, casting the room back into golden light. He looked around from where he crouched and thought that he liked this room very much. It was wonderful to be in a space that was only Erik’s, even more so than his study. He thought that he might not be wanted here, but he was not going to snoop, so he thought it couldn’t hurt anything.

When he stood again he approached the bookshelf, looking it over more thoroughly where he hadn’t gotten the chance the night before. The volumes did look on in years, lending truth to Erik’s explanation that many of them were his mother’s. Charles pulled down one that caught his eye. It turned out to be a volume of fairytales. Not his usual fare but he did not feel much like reading something that took much thought at the moment.

He opened it up to find the pages beautifully illustrated, full of swirling lines and bright colors, a garden between the pages. Satisfied with his find, he hauled the book back with him over to the bed, setting it down before he crawled up next to it. He settled in for the night among the pillows and sheets, sinking down into their embrace and remaining there.

As he lay and read it struck him that he would have been perfectly happy to simply sit and talk with Erik for the rest of the night previous and that it was his wavering in his resolve that frustrated Charles more than the lack of sexual contact all together. It was strange to think of, but it was true, and it was dangerous. The more Charles knew of Erik the more he wanted to continue to learn, to speak with him and tease him and make him smile. There was a growing attachment inside him that he was not prepared to handle.

Any attempts to remind himself that this would not—and could not—last were futile that night and it scared him. He thought perhaps he should go back to his own room, play the part he had meant to play earlier, irritated at Erik and somewhat distant for show, but he could not bring himself to move from where he waited. For that was what he was doing, he saw, waiting for Erik to come back, waiting to see if he was safe. He yearned to see him again despite having spoken so long with him the day before and despite his retained annoyance at having been cast off so abruptly.

It was dangerous, yes, but Charles thought it was too late to fight it. He could only hope that Erik did not feel quite the same way and that, once they’d finally consummated whatever it was between them, killed the tension stinging there, he would be cast off a final time, for both of their sakes. At least then it would be only him who was hurt in the process and, well, he supposed he was used to it. He knew well enough how easily he grew close to people and fight it though he might, he was not always successful. He simply cared for Erik far too much, was too drawn to him to resist.

So he stayed, closing the volume eventually and hugging it close to his chest, pictures of fairies and witches and changelings swirling in his mind. He stayed as the fire burned itself down to embers, leaving only a slight glow in the room. He stayed until dawn broke over the horizon, runny yellow egg yolks and peels of orange down the side of the window, onto the floor out in front of the bed through the thin aperture that remained in the mostly-closed blinds. He stayed until he heard the door to the room open and footsteps, quick at first and stopping abruptly.

“Charles…” a voice said, gently admonishing, and he feigned sleep. He’d gotten rather good at it over the years, he thought, and it seemed to work because Erik did not speak further to him. Instead he laid down beside him after a short pause, settling heavily at his back, warm and firm. Charles could feel his heart beating steadily.

After a few patient moments an arm came to rest over him, clutching around his waist, holding on tightly, and stayed there. There were gentle lips up against his neck, brushing there and Charles shifted to press back against him further, curling into him. He ached with how wonderful it felt just to be held like this. He could not remember the last time it had happened.

It did not take long for Erik to fall into a heavy sleep, his breathing evening out and his grip going lax. Charles could not follow after him, but he did not move, resting up against him. There was no need to, because Erik was there again. Erik stayed, so he did too.

**

The change was as painful as ever. More so perhaps since he was not exactly in the best shape after having stayed up the whole night before. It ached both times, left him sore, but seemingly uninjured this time around. Admittedly, he only had so much control but he’d done his utmost to use it.

It was more unnerving when he was younger and did not completely understand what was happening. His mother had reassured him through it, instructed him on how to make it easier. It was more natural now, though it never grew less painful. Fortunately the pain was short-lived. He was sore and tired the day following, but otherwise the consequences were few.

If he didn’t do something to himself in the meantime, that was. That night it seemed as though he’d succeeded. He trudged back to the house slowly, more than ready to sleep for a good long while, gain some much sought-after peace and quiet in his mind.

When he returned the house was quiet. He half-expected Charles to be up and about, but he thought it was probably better for him to be in bed getting his rest. Waiting up after Erik on these nights was not something he wanted Charles to make a habit of. He slunk back to his room as silently as he was able, opened the door, and shut himself safely inside.

His mind presented him with the image of Charles standing in his doorway, smiling around a stolen bottle of wine and an inquiry to be let in, which he promptly pushed away, seeing how that was exactly what he was trying to not think about. He did not succeed, ultimately, but that was more the fault of his visitor than his own.

Erik did not notice Charles asleep on his bed, curled up on top of the blankets, until he had toed off his shoes, shed his jacket, and was prepared to head that way himself. It spoke to his exhaustion and to Charles being very quiet and very much asleep.

“Charles…” he sighed, spotting the other man. He had a large volume of what appeared to be children’s stories up with him and looked incredibly peaceful, laying where he was, almost directly in the center of the mattress.

It was surprising to find him there. Erik had been prepared for Charles to be angry with him for bidding him leave so abruptly the night previous and to avoid him accordingly, but instead here he was, curled up, waiting, presumably. Something in Erik’s chest ached to see him this way. It was strangely intimate, coming home to him, as though this was a normal occurrence. Charles slept soundly, looking profoundly comfortable in Erik’s space, fitting in amongst the pillows and sheets like he belonged there, undisturbed by the encroaching sun dripping through the window some feet away.

Erik’s heart fluttered and he could do nothing to hold it. Understanding appeared as suddenly as the daylight, perfectly clear now that it was right in front of him because this was what he wanted, more than anything else, so much that it pained him. He could try to force the desire back, but it was there and strong: the simple pleasure of having someone to come back to always which he had known for a long while now that he could not have.

And now here it was in front of him and it was almost overwhelming. He wanted to think about how it was facsimile and would not last, couldn’t, it wasn’t safe, it would never be safe—but he was too tired. Tired from the night and tired from the change and so many years of holding back any hope and pushing back against Charles and running away from this and breaking things before they could shatter on their own so that he could be always in control of his own pain.

So Erik did not think about it, nor did he waste more time undressing, unwilling to do so without consent and tired enough to be unbothered by the minor burden. Instead, he climbed into bed next Charles, slung an arm around him, and held him close. Charles shifted in his sleep, back against him and Erik was glad for it. He brushed his lips up against the back of Charles’s neck, but didn’t get much further than that, so quickly did he drop off to sleep.

His dreams were as full of Charles as his waking thoughts, which he was rather resigned to by that point. He had no control over his unconscious anyway so it was easy to indulge in the images his mind produced. Blurs of pale skin and red lips, soft sounds and small, knowing smiles, memories and fantasies mixing together in vibrant tapestries. He slept soundly, lost in them.

Erik did not know exactly how long he slept, but when he awoke the light was lower, late afternoon light perhaps creeping through a crack in the blinds across the room, and Charles was still next to him. He was awake, however, where he had not been before, shifted some which spoke to him having gotten up at some point. He had another book with him, this one populated by fewer pictures than the one before it, which he was perusing slowly, flipping his way page by page through it.

Erik stretched, stiff from sleeping in a single, cramped position, pushed up into a corner of his bed, but not minding it too much. Charles turned and, finding him awake, noted his page and shut the book. He urged himself up into a sitting position, turning to face Erik.

“You’re awake,” he said, looking pleased and not remotely like he found anything odd about this situation.

“I am,” Erik agreed, not moving quite yet.

“Uninjured this time, I hope?”

Erik nodded. “The only thing that ails me is my exhaustion, and even that is not so oppressive now.”

“I’m glad.” He fell silent afterward, and Erik realized he was looking him over, in no apparent rush to continue the conversation.

Erik held still for it, knowing that it was he who had something to say. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was brusque with you. I should not have done what I did.”

Charles’s lips quirked and he reached a hand out to rest along Erik’s cheek. “No, you shouldn’t have. I do appreciate the apology.”

Erik brought a hand up to cover Charles’s. “No forgiveness?”

Slowly Charles shook his head, somewhat sly with his refusal. “You will be forgiven when you finish what you started.”

Erik huffed, supposing as much. “I see.”

Neither of them commented on Charles’s presence in the room, as if it went unspoken that he should be there. The notion made some apprehension gather in Erik’s chest, but he did not move to change that silent agreement.

“Did your trip go well?” Charles asked and Erik was so caught up in him that for a moment he forgot they were not playing their game any longer, and that he could answer as he pleased.

In the end, he opted for honesty nonetheless. “Well enough. I am glad to be done with it.”

“ _I_ am glad you are returned to me,” Charles said, quieter now. He was ringed in gold by the indirect light diffusing through the room, perfectly outlined as the curling title on the cover of an old, valuable text.

Erik decided that he was still tired, tired enough to not resist. “Come here,” he beckoned, reaching out to Charles who went easily enough.

It was slower than the earlier night, more gentle. Erik was careful in his movements and how he kissed Charles who came to lie next to him once more. He curled an arm back around him, pulling them flush, chest to chest, resting his hand up against the back of his neck. Charles arched into him, parting his lips when Erik indicated, granting Erik access to the rest of his mouth. Erik kissed him thoroughly, eventually rolling them back over so he could press him down into the bed. He did remain hovering over him when he moved and that alone made the contact far more chaste.

Charles lifted his own arms to wrap back around Erik’s back, digging his fingers into his shirt. He seemed compliant enough with Erik’s pace so it was startling when he suddenly rolled them again, knocking Erik down and half-falling on top of him. It knocked the air out of Erik who suddenly found himself in a tangle of limbs, but Charles laughed openly, moving so he was sitting properly on top of his waist.

“Not as graceful as I’d meant it to be,” he commented, pressing his hands down against Erik’s chest, “but it got the job done.”

Erik laughed too, partially to disguise the way he could feel heat rising in his skin at the feeling of Charles’s weight on top of him and his hands running down the length of his torso, exploratory. He wanted to ask Charles what exactly he was doing but he didn’t get the chance, seeing how Charles was leaning down to kiss him again, occupying his mouth and swallowing his words.

For some time that was all he did, although his hands did begin to wander and sooner rather than later Erik found fingers drifting down below the hem of shirt, up along the skin of stomach. He jerked back somewhat for Charles’s touch was cool and he hadn’t been expecting it. He had been keeping his own hands steady on Charles’s hips.

He could feel Charles smile against his neck. “Don’t worry,” he said, pressing his lips beneath his jaw. “I only want to feel. I won’t take it off of you unless you want me to.”

Erik felt odd being consoled by the younger man as if he had never done this before. It had been some years, but he was not inexperienced. So he stopped flinching and let Charles do as he would. His touch was light, brushing over Erik’s skin. He did not do more than touch, as he’d said, mapping out Erik’s chest with his palms and fingers. It truly did seem as though he was scared he might frighten Erik off. He could not remember the last time he had been touched so gently.

Most of Charles’s attention appeared to be focused on kissing Erik, mostly his mouth but his cheeks and his jaw and his neck now and again, dipping down to tend to the new skin. There was a slow heat building between them, Erik thought, rising steadily like steam from a kettle. Charles was keeping his hips still but that did not mean Erik couldn’t feel that his body was not the only one taking interest in the proceedings.

In part this still felt like a dream. They were moving slowly enough and Erik’s mind was still foggy enough with sleep that he thought it might be if it weren’t for how real Charles felt above him. Still, Erik treated it similarly, letting it go where it would, focusing on licking into Charles’s mouth and squeezing at his hips on and off just to feel at the skin beneath his fingers.

That was the reason Erik gave himself for not doing much to stop Charles when he suddenly moved further down, away from him, nestling his way between his legs. Erik made space for him, unable to do much else. He dropped his hands down, having lost their hold, and propped himself up on his elbows to see what it was Charles thought he was doing now. Charles spent little time waiting for him to catch up however, because all at once there were fingers tugging at the waist of his trousers, and a hand around him, and—Erik gasped, shocked by the touch.

He jerked but Charles remained nonplussed, far too busy pulling his cock free from its confines and stroking over it with a touch that was anything but hesitant.

That lurched him into action. He couldn’t have said what exactly he was feeling, some strange cocktail of blinding arousal and confusion and fear at this moving much too quickly all at once. He moved to sit up and scoot away but Charles flicked his gaze back upward and pressed down against his stomach, not truly holding him but applying pressure, making his will known.

“I understand if you do not want to touch me,” he said, voice less steady than Erik had thought it might be, “but I have wanted to touch you for months now. If you bid me stop I will, but otherwise, please, Erik, let me.”

His expression turned pleading, his voice interwoven with deeper strains of desire, and his grip remained firm around Erik. Erik swallowed hard, seeing him as he was, down between his legs, asking for this. He thought he should say no, but between the incredible relief he was feeling at finally having Charles’s hands on him, the need for more, and the fact that what most upset him was the notion that Charles did not think Erik wanted to touch him in return, he could not bring himself to do it.

So, he nodded and settled back against the bed. Charles grinned brilliantly at him and Erik felt his cock twitch in Charles’s hold in response to his eagerness. Then Charles was looking at him again, and his eyes were darker than before. There was a hunger there that Erik had not seen so clearly yet. That and Charles moving his hand in another steady stroke were enough to have Erik biting back a groan that threatened to well up from his chest.

Charles kept up the motion of his hand after that, addictive pressure around him, and Erik had to fight to keep his hips still. Charles slid his free hand to rest on Erik’s thigh and transitioned into thumbing at the head of Erik’s cock instead. Erik could not fight the noise that caused. It drew Charles’s eyes and smile again, and he was infuriatingly pleased with himself, Erik could tell. He wished that he was not so easily undone, but it was pointless to rally against it. He had wanted this for too long.

For all that it seemed like he was plowing ahead, Charles kept his motions very steady, slow and considering rather than quick and rough. Erik sought to get ahold of himself, though he did not know how long he would be able to last, even at this pace.

It wasn’t particularly surprising then that when Charles leaned in further without warning to lick a long stripe up the length of him, he jerked harder than before.

“Charles,” he admonished, unable to stop himself.

Charles glanced up at him, frustratingly innocent considering his current position. “Yes?”

Erik had nothing intelligent that he could bring himself to say so he simply sent what he hoped was reprimanding look down toward him, although Charles appeared unaffected seeing how all he did was lean in to lick again, holding tight to the base of his cock to keep him steady. Erik gave up as soon as he’d begun, collapsing back against the mattress and digging his fingers into the sheets. Erik could have sworn he heard Charles chuckling but his blood was rushing too loudly in his ears to be sure.

There was suddenly more soft, wet pressure around him and another sound was ripped from deep in his chest. Charles’s mouth was exquisite, slick suction all around him, driving every last coherent thought from his mind and sending frissons of electric pleasure up his spine. Erik stopped trying to keep his breathing steady and simply did his best to hold on and keep still, a task which was far more difficult than he could have imagined.

Charles for his part was relentless and seemingly excellent at what he was doing. He ran his tongue up along the underside of Erik’s cock now and again, but mostly he kept his focus on the crown, keeping his lips pursed around it and using his hand to deal with the rest. Erik leaned up at one point when he had enough mind for it to look at him and found the image beyond obscene.

Seeing Charles with his head bent down, lips wrapped completely around him, entirely lost in his task was almost more than he could bear and Erik cast out for anything to distract himself. His mind caught on something and he was forcing it out, his voice ridiculously rough, before he could think it through. “Are you just here to shirk off work?” he demanded, breathless in spite of not having done anything.

It was an idiotic thing to say considering the circumstances, particularly because it caused Charles to pull off of him with a filthy sound, stop what he was doing completely which was almost painful, the cool air and loss of contact a burn on his skin, and give him an incredulous look. It transformed quickly enough, stretching out into a lopsided grin. It made it so Erik could clearly see the saliva on his mouth, making it shine, and the well-used state of his lips. Arousal flared in his chest once more.

“Absolutely,” Charles said before ducking to swallow Erik down again.

Erik reached out without thinking to grasp at his hair, digging his fingers in and hissing at the sudden return of the heat and pressure around him. Charles didn’t protest his grip so he left it there. Again he became lost in the feeling of it all, drowning in wet warmth and Charles’s movements. Only the sharp awareness of how close he was to being pushed over the edge helped him grip onto his cognizance.

Erik was still struggling with his hips when Charles pulled back again. He had to bite back any sort of disappointed noise that he thought might come out of him at the second loss. “You can move your hips,” Charles told him, voice tellingly hoarse.

“Are you sure?” Erik asked. That seemed like it might be dangerous even if he also wanted to immediately comply.

“Yes.” And then he was back at it again, hand and tongue and lips all working in tandem.

So Erik did, short little thrusts up into his mouth. The movement jostled Charles at first but he soon caught on to Erik’s pace and went along with it, holding still for the most part and allowing Erik to move on his own. The feeling alone was enough to make him ache but that on top of the continuous realization that Charles was trusting him to do this and was doing it for him was far too much.

“Charles—” he warned, releasing the other man who must have understood his tone and pulled back, returning Erik to the warm grip of his fingers instead.

Erik’s mind whited out with his release and it took him several moments to come back to himself. When he did he found Charles moving again, settling back on top of him so that he could feel the full length of his body. He reached up to push back Erik’s hair from his face, his pupils still blown out when he looked down at him.

Erik brought his own shaking hand up to run his thumb over Charles’s lower lip. He shifted beneath him while he sought words that seemed unwilling to come, dizzy as he still was from what had happened and generally in awe of the other man, and Charles whined. Comprehension finally made its way into Erik’s mind and he forced himself to move, rolling them once more.

He reached down without much thought and pressed his palm between Charles’s legs, rubbing over his own still-present arousal. Charles moaned again, this time in relief. “You don’t have to—” he said, contradicting his body’s response.

“I want to,” Erik interrupted him, though he did not know exactly what Charles might want or need. He was not sure he could replicate what Charles had done with any sort of skill, but he refused to leave him in this state again. “What would you like me to do?”

“Just your hand,” Charles said, the words tumbling out in a rush. He writhed some under Erik, pressing back against his hand. “That will be more than enough.”

Erik did not waste time with thought, only reached as Charles had to take hold of his cock and stroke. Charles was hot and solid in his hand and Erik was gratified to at last be touching him. He could not see much of him, but what he could made Erik more desirous than ever to see all of him. He was sure the sight would be something to behold. But for now there was no time.

Erik worked his hand, rubbing up over Charles much as he would do for himself, his strokes sure and quicker than anything Charles had done. Charles did not seem to mind. He moaned for Erik much as he had wanted him to the night before, pushed up into his hand, his body restless with the stimulation it was being given. Erik leaned down to press his face into Charles’s neck, kissing there, keeping his free hand steady on the nape of his neck.

Charles gripped onto his back and arched up into him. “Erik,” he started calling at one point, and Erik couldn’t help but nip right underneath his jaw, marking again. That along with the repetitive work of his hand was enough to bring Charles off as well. He whined through it, curling up in the meantime, clinging onto Erik. When he relaxed, Erik was loath to let go, but he knew he must.

He dropped down next to Charles, but the other man was quick to curl back up against him, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. For all he’d done, Erik noticed, he did not seem out of breath, only beautiful in his satisfaction and the lax sprawl of his body up against him.

“That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” Charles teased him, nosing up under his jaw.

Erik sighed. It hadn’t been. It was terribly easy. It would have been just as easy that first night by the fire, or any day in his study or the night in his bedroom, and that was what frightened him about it. Still, he thought this was inevitable, and he could not bring himself to regret it so soon. He felt grateful to Charles and eager despite himself to do it again. He wanted to watch pleasure spread across Charles’s face over and over again, wanted to tend to him and him alone for as long as he could, wanted all of his skin revealed to him—all this and more he wanted.

“No,” Erik admitted. “It wasn’t.”

“You’re forgiven now,” Charles told him, pressing in against him. Erik moved to hold him again, tight up against his chest. He smelled wonderful, Erik noticed, so wonderful like this.

“Good,” Erik laughed, too tired to think of a clever response. He felt liable to fall asleep again as soon as he closed his eyes, which felt a bit excessive, but he did not feel like fighting it.

He was happy, he noticed, happy with Charles in his arms after what they’d done, the two of them lazy and all over each other, tired but wanting to do it again. It was such a novel sensation that he did not know at all what to do with it other than grasp onto it and wonder at it.

“I cannot believe that you tried to berate me about skipping work in the midst of it,” Charles grumbled up against Erik’s neck. His mock-irritation melted into quiet laughter a half second later and Erik couldn’t help but join in.

“It was a valid question,” he argued, feeling the heaviness in his eyelids increase even as he tried to focus on the conversation.

“Perhaps, but it was not a valid time to ask it.”

Erik only hummed in response.

“Do you mean to fall asleep again?” Charles demanded, sounding exasperated and far away.

“Mm,” Erik said, already drifting off, still in awe of what was happening to him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry for the reupload if anyone noticed that lmao ao3 hates me sometimes :,) )

They were testing the water, Charles thought. That’s what this was. Dipping a hand in to feel the temperature, trying to judge depth by sight, wondering at the current, extraneous details, but perhaps necessary ones. He was not complaining by any means. Forward progress was forward progress, and something to celebrate.

The past week had been wonderful now that Erik had released whatever steel grip he’d been keeping on himself. Something had shifted decisively, Charles thought, the ground moving beneath his feet, manifesting a new field between them, new space to explore and cross. It was most certainly during that warm afternoon after Erik had returned, but Charles doubted it was the physical contact alone that had done it. No, something else was the origin, and that had been the result.

In any case, it was an immense relief. Charles felt somewhat as though he’d been fighting an uphill battle with Erik’s misguided conscience and now that he was finally at the top he could take some time to enjoy the view. (Some parts of his mind whispered that this time wouldn’t last forever, but he tried to ignore them as best he could most days.)

He had more than enough to distract himself with. His first invitation into Erik’s chambers had seemingly been the only one he needed. Useful, seeing how often he found himself there at night. Erik, after the first time, didn’t protest his presence in the space, which was to be expected. They both knew what it meant.

Erik remained subdued, but he was curious and eager, happy to touch and kiss wherever he was allowed. Charles loved to see it, loved to see the crease between his brows ease and the awe he wore on his face from time to time in the midst of their time together. Their mutual explorations were mostly undertaken with hands alone, but Charles did not take much issue with that fact. Erik’s hands were very nice, strong and broad, and it was lovely just to be touched.

Memories of Erik thrusting up into his mouth, thick and heavy at the front of his throat, swum about and resurfaced often and Charles did little to be rid of them, admittedly. Watching the shift of Erik’s expression when he first licked up over the impressive length of his cock, as if he was being given something impossible, was something Charles suspected he would keep with him for many years to come. But for now he was content with their slower pace and the quiet limits set for what they did and did not do. There was an indulgence to it that he was unaccustomed to, a laziness that was addictive.

Moreover, he had a notion that the limits he imagined were phantom. He had been pushing, he knew, pushing Erik along, pushing aside his own concerns along with him, but he no longer felt like it was necessary. What would come to pass would come naturally, he thought, without his direction, and he was glad for it.

In the meantime, his days remained strangely ordinary for all that had changed. In the mornings and afternoons he worked the garden, kept it up. It was doing very well, flourishing in the summer sun, blooms opening faster than he could possibly keep track of. Charles liked the time outside even in spite of the sun’s burning, oppressive presence. If he had free time he was prone to pushing his way back into Erik’s study—oddly there some resistance remained—so they might talk to while the hours away and so he might pull Erik’s head out of his books once in a while.

At sunset Erik had made a habit of appearing from the thick vines winding their way around the castle’s back door, breaching his self-inflicted containment within its walls to walk the grounds with Charles. When night fell Erik had his dinner and Charles usually spent his time reading or wandering. There was a storage room he’d discovered that spoke to this being Erik’s childhood home that he liked to poke around, though he was careful not to disturb anything too much. Eventually either he would make his way back to Erik or Erik would seek him out, and the night progressed from there.

It was almost alarmingly peaceful, Charles thought. He had not had a routine in longer than he could remember, but he didn’t dislike it. The stable nature of it was oddly reassuring, but he thought he shouldn’t be so surprised, as that was part of what drew him to Erik and this life in the first place.

The longer it lasted the more he wondered what could be the end to this. If he had dreaded it before, that feeling had only become more acute with time. The part that made him nervous was that it was inevitable, but it did not feel that way. It always had before, but not this time. The false permanence of it all was disgruntling and he didn’t know how to deal with it beyond pushing it aside. It would come as it was meant to, as it always did. Charles thought he would rather enjoy what he had until then, grasping at all of this, facsimile or not, and holding it as close as possible.

Charles was watering the garden as he pondered it all, bending over some peonies as the sun finally began to sink down, its usual slow, petulant retreat like a child refusing to go to bed. He shot it a glare, willing it to be gone. The bright, obnoxious thing did not move much faster, but it did continue to drop in the sky. He wanted it gone for several reasons, but mostly, he would admit, because it meant Erik would come out to see him.

He was stupidly eager over it, he noticed, as if it was rare, but he could not fight back the feeling of anticipation. He wanted to see him again and ask how his day had gone and walk with him. He wanted to show him some of the new flowers and how the health of the apple trees out near the woods had increased so well and ask him if he wanted Charles to pick the sweet potatoes over near the side of the house or not. He’d been reading some on vegetable harvesting from a dusty volume he’d found in the house’s larger library and he thought they seemed about ready.

Charles was so caught up in thinking of what he wanted to say that he yelped and jolted when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind. He fought the grip instinctively, struggling against it, and quick as it had appeared it was gone—and Erik was laughing at him, he noticed belatedly.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you so,” he said. Charles whirled to see, yes, it was only him, taking a few steps back and holding his hands up. “I thought you would hear me coming. You normally do.”

Charles ducked his head. That was true, but he had not been paying attention. That was yet another thing wearing on his nerves. He was not so attentive as he could have sworn he was only a few months ago. “I was lost in thought,” he admitted.

“About what?” Erik was in a good mood, Charles thought, not hardly as brooding as usual, although the sun did that to him somewhat naturally. He was lovely out in the natural light, eyes like rare, pale jewels, lips parting to give way to his smile.

It was easy to shake his initial jumpiness in the face of it all, although it was replaced just as quickly with the excited nervousness that came from getting to see Erik. Truly a no-sum game if he ever saw one. “Sweet potatoes,” he blurted—among other things, but none he would dare mention to Erik.

Erik strayed a step closer to him, raised his eyebrows. “Sweet potatoes were what had you so caught up in thought that you didn’t notice me approaching from all the way across the yard until I was nearly on top of you?”

If Charles could flush he would have. Embarrassment was there nonetheless, a steady companion through the years, but Charles attempted to shrug it off, giving Erik a careless smile. “They need to be harvested soon. It’s very important, you see.”

“I see,” Erik agreed. “Well, let’s get to it then.”

Charles blinked at him, a little bewildered by the declaration, but soon set his watering pail aside and led the way over to the potato patch. Erik followed after him and glanced down at the plants. “I think you’re right,” he said. “I’ll fetch something to place them in.”

And he was off. Charles wondered what had gotten into him. He had never been much help in the garden before, leaving Charles to it for the most part. Charles had begun to think he wasn’t much for working with plants in the first place, but perhaps he’d been wrong.

Ultimately, he decided not to question it, kneeling down so he could start pulling up the vegetables, dusting them off and making a pile. Erik returned soon after with a basket and without his jacket. He’d pushed his sleeves up as well, Charles noticed, and he looked very dashing dressed down. Erik wasted little time bending to join Charles, moving what he had already gathered into the basket before joining him in digging them up.

Charles was struck by how surreal it was, kneeling down in the dirt together, picking potatoes of all things, but it was enjoyable, as any task he could do with Erik was. He liked working together, simple solidarity found in the act.

“Could you tell that they were ready too?” he asked eventually, curious if Erik had believed him blindly or not.

“Yes,” Erik said, turning to face him, pausing in his work. There was some sweat gathering at his temples, a result of the still-dying day. “They’re usually ready about this time.”

Charles blinked at him and must have given him a dubious look because Erik gave him back a crooked smile. “Who do you think tended to the garden when you weren’t here?”

Charles felt silly for questioning him, although he still felt it was a valid inquiry. He went back to digging, pushing aside the soft dirt to make it easier to yank up the next plant by the stem. “One of your other servants perhaps? It’s stranger to think of you out here digging around in the dirt.”

“I suppose.” Erik yanked up another plant, dusted it off. Charles thought belatedly that maybe it made sense. Erik’s hands were not the hands of a man who had never done a day of work in his life. They were not as rough as they could be, but they’d seen to more than paper and pen in their time. “But it used to be a personal project of mine. It was an excuse to be outside and be productive at the same time.”

“Walking is productive…” Charles muttered, mostly to himself. He dusted off his hands as another thought came to mind. “I hadn’t thought anyone was caring for it considering the state of disarray it was in when I arrived. It was more a mud pit than a garden, I dare say.”

Erik bumped his shoulder against Charles’s lightly, frowning at him. It was a soft expression for all that it came off at first as more severe. “It was winter. You cannot judge me too harshly for letting the weather have its way for a few months.”

“I _could_ ,” Charles said, not quite done being difficult, letting Erik deal with the last few potatoes on his own. Erik shot him an incredulous look. “But I won’t.”

Erik shook his head and finished up with the plants, dusting his hands off when he was done. “Well, we certainly have enough sweet potatoes for a while.”

Charles sized up the pile and nodded. It was of no real consequence to him, but he could still judge the quantity and be glad for the health of the plant. Vaguely, he strained to remember what they tasted like but had little success. He hadn’t had them much as a child.

Erik got to his feet first, brushing at the dirt on his knees and looking striking in the last light of the day. It seemed they’d spent their usual time set aside for walking on the potatoes which was somewhat disappointing. Charles tried not to be bothered by something so small and realized a few seconds too late that Erik was holding out a hand to help him up. Charles worried briefly about how dirty his own hands were before he realized that Erik was no better off and took it, letting himself be pulled upright.

“Thank you,” he said and Erik glanced off, still horrible at accepting even small gratitudes.

Charles thought to chide him for it but he was already picking up the basket and moving back toward the house. Charles sighed, glancing off toward the rest of the yard, now blue-tinted from the gathering clouds, before he followed after him, pushing off the hood of his cloak as he went, having judged it to be safe.

Erik led them up to the door where he paused, looking back, perhaps checking to see if Charles was still following him. In the moment Charles decided it couldn’t hurt to ask, even as wary as Erik was about walking at night. Maybe he would mind less if they were together.

“Would you still want to walk with me?” Charles asked, putting on a hopeful smile. “For a short time at least?”

Erik looked as conflicted as Charles would have expected, clearly fighting in his mind about it. “It would not hurt to skip one night,” he pointed out. “Darkness has fallen already.”

As if Charles could not see that with his own eyes. He let some of his disappointment show on his face after all. “Just a short walk. I like to see the estate at night. It looks different.”

Something that would have only been comprehensible had Charles been able to read Erik’s mind skittered across the other man’s face, but he grew less stubborn rather than more and sighed. “Very well. A short walk.”

Charles grinned, happy to be indulged. Erik set the basket down near the door and moved back toward him, reaching down to take his hand once he got close enough. He paused, as always, as if waiting to see if Charles minded—as if he would ever mind something so innocent as having his hand taken—and, apparently assured that Charles was unlikely to reject the action, started walking.

He did take a moment to drag Erik back over to where he’d set down his pail so they could rinse off their hands with the remaining water. Erik didn’t object, shaking the water off when he was finished. Charles waited him for him to do so before he reclaimed his hand and allowed them to set off properly.

Charles swung their hands as they began to go around the perimeter of the yard, per usual, until Erik forced him to keep his arm still. Charles took it as a cue to take Erik’s hand and move it so it was on his waist instead, his arm wrapped around him. He pressed up against his side, and stayed there. Erik cast a glance down at him but ultimately left his hand where it was, resting casually above his hip.

“How was your day?” Charles asked, breaking the silence. They were getting nearer to where most of the fruit-bearing trees were strewn, shadows gathering in larger numbers beneath their branches, and soon they would turn. Short walk or not, he thought he ought to get some conversation in while they were at it.

“Ordinary.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is.”

“It’s not a good answer.”

Erik huffed out a laugh. His fingers flexed on Charles’s waist. “I’m sorry my days are not so interesting that I can speak about them for hours.”

“No wonder I catch you looking down at me so often,” Charles teased him. “Anyone who cannot muster up more than a single word to describe their day must be truly desperate for any distraction.”

Erik’s grip tightened and Charles could feel the rate of his heart pick up some. He smelled very nice, Charles thought—and then forced the realization back as soon as it came to mind, angry all at once at himself for having it in the first place.

“That’s not the only reason I watch you,” Erik said, voice lower than before, riddled with some of the heat that often imbued it late at night when they were pressed up against one other in a much less chaste way.

Charles swallowed, marveling at how little it took on Erik’s part to make him wish somewhat that they’d simply headed in for the night and forgotten the walk altogether. But it was too late for that now, and the night was young yet, so Charles opted to tilt his head back, looking up at Erik. “Is that so?”

Erik kissed him when he did which was what he’d wanted in the first place. It was not for very long, but it was enough to have Charles reaching an arm up around his shoulders and leaning in for more, and it was more than Charles thought he might receive. Erik wasn’t always so generous with contact outside in the open, which Charles supposed was prudent even if it irritated him superficially, but apparently he judged it to be dark enough and their distance from the castle to be far enough to be safe.

They started walking properly again soon after, having stumbled along only a few steps in the interim, and reached the trees. “The apple trees are doing much better,” Charles told him.

“Are they?” Erik paused where they were, just out of reach of the darker portion of the yard. “I had wondered what ailed them last season, but I could never riddle it out. I’m glad to hear they are healthy again.”

Charles wasn’t sure what was wrong with them either. He’d never quite been able to understand it, but he often felt that way with living things so he’d simply gone on caring for them as he normally would and they had healed themselves naturally. “Are they very old?”

Erik was not yet done being surprising for he led them into the trees after all, still walking along the side of the grounds. Charles thought perhaps he was going to walk out to where the forest cut them off and then turn around rather than making a full circle. “Yes. They were here before I was born.”

“That must be it. Their roots run deep. It would take more than a seasonal sickness to put them out.”

Erik nodded his agreement but didn’t continue the conversation. Charles allowed the quiet of the night to sweep back in briefly. It was comfortable out finally. When the clouds moved aside the moon was not yet fully faded into the night sky, clinging onto to some of its luminescence yet. In the distance the taller trees tittered as if in secret conversation, giants compared to those in the yard. Charles had often longed to see what hid within them, for he thought there might be something just from the look of them, but he had yet to dare.

They reached them soon enough, moving in comfortable silence. Erik did pause at the threshold and Charles held steady when he moved to turn them, detaching himself easily enough. He peered through the columns of the trunks into the deeper darkness of the woods. He couldn’t see anything too fascinating, but that didn’t mean there was nothing. He always took paths through forests when he could and lingered there longer than anywhere else because he was so fond of them. Erik’s home was interesting and lovely in many ways, but he did miss the familiar company of the trees.

“Charles,” Erik called, drawing him out of his thoughts. Concern was veiling his face once more. “We should head back.”

“Why?” Charles asked, disinterested in being indirect. There was some distance between them that had not been there before so he turned more fully to look at Erik when he spoke.

“Because it’s late,” Erik replied, quick with his answer and logical reasoning as ever, “and it’s dark. We can walk more tomorrow.”

He was right of course, but Charles wasn’t particularly interested in rationality at the moment. It tired him more often than not, since so little of it remained applicable to his own existence. At that point in time, he felt drawn to the woods, called by them, and he did not see much reason to resist the chance to explore. So, he ignored Erik’s common sense and started walking again, on into the trees.

“Charles,” Erik called, exasperated.

Charles glanced back over his shoulder, offering him a sly smile, but continued on. If Erik really did not want to follow he could wait for him at the house. It wasn’t as if they had to do _everything_ together, nice as it was. Realistically Charles could only force Erik into so much. If he was more comfortable in the yard in the company of the apple trees, that was fine.

(Of course, Charles wished he would come along, but acting as though he couldn’t care less about it sometimes helped ease his disappointment if he didn’t.)

Charles wandered further into the woods, pushing through the underbrush. The plants underfoot were many in number, well-nourished by the season and there was no clear path at first, but some yards in Charles found one, carved out naturally perhaps or placed there on purpose and having lasted the years. It was speckled with moonlight filtered in from the branches above. As he had thought, the forest was not nearly as dark or foreboding as it looked. He thought he could hear something ahead and sought to move toward it when he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned and found that Erik had joined him after all. He was tromping through the leaves and grass after him, looking put-out. Charles beamed at him. All it earned him was a shake of Erik’s head as he continued to approach. Charles set off down the path toward the noise, content that Erik would follow him now.

As he did, he was struck by an odd giddy urge which he indulged almost without thought, picking up his pace and beginning to run through the trees. It wasn’t a sprint but it was much faster than he had any need to be moving. Still, he couldn’t help the skip in his step at doing something spontaneous. Erik said something behind him but there was wind whistling in his ears so he couldn’t hear.

As he kept on he felt a growing suspicion which caused him to glance back over his shoulder and—yes, he was most definitely being chased. He felt a strange jolt of excitement or nervousness or both that urged him on, off down the path faster than before. Running came easily to him, perhaps for obvious reasons, but he still enjoyed it.

This was ridiculous, he thought, but it was freeing to run through the night, parting it like dark water, pushing through the cool, relieving air. He liked to feel the ground sturdy beneath his feet and the wind blowing past his face, ruffling his hair, and to smell the freshness of the air. He liked, too, that Erik was still following him in spite of his strange actions. All at once he felt very young and reckless and without a care in the world, like the two of them were children playing a game. He laughed at the thought. It rang out into the dark and disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

Things certainly did get lost in the dark, but that was one of the things that Charles loved most about it.

Just around the time he was realizing the sound he was hearing was the river that flowed nearby which either curved in an odd way to run back behind the house or was in possession of a distributary, he found the arms were back around his waist, capturing him more permanently this time and pulling him to a sharp stop. He shrieked and squirmed but Erik did not let him go. Instead he lifted him up off his feet which he hadn’t done since the first night they met—when Charles felt he had not been in the proper mind to appreciate it at all—and squeezed him closer to his chest and by then Charles was grinning too wildly to care.

“Silly thing,” Erik rumbled into his shoulder. “Why do you run?”

Erik was breathless from the chase, his heart pounding and his blood rushing. He set Charles down soon after, back on his feet and when Charles turned back toward him he found he looked lovely wearing the glow of exertion. He pressed back up against him to feel his chest move.

“To see if you’d chase me,” Charles told him, and it was true in part. “You did.”

“I did,” Erik echoed, not yet backing away.

There was something his eyes when he said it that Charles liked, some of the abandon from their short run still flashing there. Alongside it was something more familiar but no less enticing, for it was how Erik had looked at him the few times he’d had to come searching for him after dinner and finally found him. Charles pressed up against him more firmly, unable to help himself, pressing his lips up under his jaw and the dangerously soft skin there.

He could feel Erik’s fingers digging into his cloak which he had not taken off. He wanted to. He wanted to shed it and his shirt for that matter, be done with all of it, and for Erik to do the same so they could push up against one another with no barriers. Yes, he’d wanted Erik to chase him and when he had, he’d let him catch him, but that wasn’t supposed to be the end of it. He wanted to be kept and taken as well. The desire throbbed within him like a phantom heartbeat, and it picked up in pace when Erik moved to catch his mouth once more.

The kiss was deeper, had Charles clinging to Erik and opening his mouth for more. Erik tugged him closer yet despite him already being inside the circle of his arms, as if he could pull him all the way inside of himself and keep him there and _how wonderful_ , Charles thought. _How terribly wonderful to be wanted._

Erik trailed off as he often did down the side of his face down to his neck. Charles tilted his head and Erik fit his mouth to the curve just as naturally. It made Charles’s breath catch. “You confound me so,” Erik told him and Charles could feel his teeth on his skin as he spoke.

Charles whined and rubbed up against him, unable to stop himself. It was encouraging when Erik pushed back, made Charles’s head spin, his mind narrowing in on how badly he wanted to keep going and if he could possibly convince Erik that it was fine and that he did not know if he could make it all the way back to the castle—

“I want to show you something,” Erik said suddenly from where he’d been tending to his neck and his jaw, snapping Charles out of his train of thought.

Charles pulled back, blinking and considering as best he could through the fog in his mind. His curiosity, in the end, was strong enough to press back his more carnal desires. “Okay. Show me.”

Erik pulled back but kept hold of his hand again and led them on into the night. Charles fell into step alongside him once more. He caught a glimpse of the river as they went, glimmering liquid gunmetal, but Erik turned them off the path randomly and left it behind. Charles wondered what he could possibly be up to. The other man looked sure of his path, but he did keep glancing at Charles as if he to make sure he didn’t start running off again.

Charles didn’t intend to. He kept firm hold of Erik’s hand and glanced around at the trees but mostly he watched Erik as he pushed ahead, not quite able to look away.

The walk did not take very long ultimately. One second they were in the underbrush and the next Erik was pulling them into a strange little clearing the middle of the trees. They’d reunited with the river too, Charles noticed. It swept along some yards away, ambivalent to their presence. Without the trees gathering together overhead Charles could see the stars when he looked up, millions of them scattered across the midnight palette above them. It was a beautiful sight, a glimpse of the celestial where one would not expect it to be found.

When he managed to drag his eyes back down he found Erik was looking at him anxiously. “Do you like it? I discovered it long ago when I was still a child and sometimes went wandering around in the woods. I used to like to come here to look up at the stars.”

Charles did not attempt to fight back his smile. “It’s wonderful.”

He was struck as he always was by how much he ached for Erik, different and similar to how he’d felt some minutes earlier. Charles could not understand how he insisted that he had nothing to give but then went on to share such things with him and look at him the way he did and speak with him for hours on end and follow willingly after him when he went running off into the woods at night on a whim like a fool. No one had given Charles even half as much in so many years, and he could not think of what he’d done to deserve it.

Whatever worries he’d had before, for the time being at least, he cast off into the night. He would pick them up again later, but at the moment he had no use for them. It was a bit of a shame as he thought he’d like to stay longer and watch the stars and listen to the river and the wind through the trees, but as it was he had no more patience left to spare.

He stepped back up to Erik, curling into him again. Erik seemed surprised but welcomed him just as easily as before.

“I want to tell you something,” Charles told him, whispering now. These words he did not want to give away. They were for Erik alone to hear and keep.

Erik raised an eyebrow at him, but bent down willingly when he beckoned. “Tell me.”

Charles stretched up to press his lips against his ear, one palm pressed up against where his heart—miraculous, lively thing—beat eagerly. “I want you,” Charles murmured, “now even more so than I have before.”

Erik’s breathing stuttered and Charles grinned when he gripped down below his hips. He pressed a kiss where he’d been hovering and then stepped back. When he did he was very pleased with his work. Erik looked practically undone and like he was incredibly unlikely to look away from Charles any time soon.

“If you’ll have me,” he added, although it was, frankly, a somewhat ridiculous thing to say. Charles almost laughed at himself for it, but he bit it back. Erik swallowed and Charles watched his throat move. His skin felt too tight and too hot, and his clothes by comparison were all but unbearable.

The tension in the pause afterward was tangible, rapidly filling the previously peaceful air. It manifested as Charles thought it must when Erik spoke, voice low and rough, cracking like a gunshot through the silence.

“In that case,” Erik said, something fantastically certain in the set of his jaw, “you’d best start running again.”

Within seconds Charles was off, out of the clearing and back onto the path, flying through the night. He was almost shaking with anticipation and felt like he could run for miles and not be tired. Back out of the forest, thoroughly disrupting the quiet night, past the apple trees and through the expanse of the yard proper, all the way back to the vine-wrapped door, wrenching it open and laughing when Erik half-shoved him through it, having been right on his heels the entire time.

They skittered through the halls, pulling and pushing at one another, trying to be clandestine and not succeeding very well. Luckily Erik’s room was fairly close and Charles knew the way by heart. He managed to fumble that second door open, practically falling through the threshold so much momentum did he still have within him. Erik was right behind him, closing the door and locking it decisively with a key he produced from his pocket.

Then he turned and Charles felt thrillingly caught once more. He held his ground as Erik stalked toward him, taking hold of him, and let himself be pushed up against the door and practically devoured. He almost sobbed in relief when Erik pressed one of his thighs between his own. Charles went slack in Erik’s grip, let the other man hold him up, sinking into the frantic embrace as easily as water flowed down the stream.

“I want to tell you something,” Erik forced out, pulling back and keeping Charles where he was when he tried to follow, speaking the words hot under his jaw.

Charles bit back a frustrated sound even as he felt arousal flare, sizzling all over his skin. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“I want you,” Erik growled, repeating his own words back to him, desperate and raw. “All of you. Right now. Right here. I can’t stand not having you any longer.”

Charles moaned quietly and arched up against him, smiling again, dizzy and overcome with ecstasy already, and thought he ought to let Erik in on the secret as well, though he was dubious how much it lived up to that name anymore. He had to know, Charles thought. Surely he had to.

Still, he made a show of it, letting his head fall back and his lips part, fixing Erik with as willing and wanting of a look as he could muster. “You already have me.”

**

Erik had given in completely, body and soul, had given himself over. Whatever resolve he’d had before had been chipped away slowly and then eroded entirely. Tonight hardly felt different than the other nights, more a continuation than some true digression. It had been what seemed like an eternity since he’d felt the way he did, flushed with urgency and ravenous for this. He thought he’d outgrown it, shed it along with his youth but here it was back again, simply slumbering, never truly gone.

He felt somewhat like he may have never felt it so acutely before because everything felt different with Charles, more intense, more overwhelming. It wasn’t just that he wanted him, it was that he couldn’t stand not having him a second longer. He had known it out in the woods, the realization knocking into him with impressive force. And somewhere within himself he knew that his worries were still valid—at least some of them. At the end of the day, this relationship wasn’t safe. No relationship he had that went beyond simple cordiality would ever be safe, which was why he didn’t have any—or hadn’t had any—and those he did form couldn’t last because of it, but he was sick to death of thinking of it.

He was sick to death of turning circles in his mind and overseeing the upkeep of endless walls and pushing Charles back and seeing the hurt in his eyes even when he hid it well. He would have this night, just this one, for himself. No thinking, no fretting, no wondering about tomorrow and the consequences, only feeling.

All the rest he would cast up into the night and leave there to hang in the air with the stars. He knew where to find it again if he needed it. But right now Charles was in his arms, eyes and hair still wild from their run, pushing up against him and clinging onto him and that was all that mattered.

Erik kissed him, unable to resist, clashing their mouths together. Charles opened up for him and soon he was caught up in his taste, clinging hard to Charles’s waist, pressing at the reassuring solidity of the skin and bone he could feel there. Erik was not one to cling to material things, but a possessiveness over Charles ran through his blood. At first it had taken the form of protectiveness, but this was more than that. This was tinted dark with desire to touch and mark and keep, nearly overwhelming in its strength.

He felt it now and it urged him forward. He rubbed his thigh up against Charles who whined prettily for him and returned the gesture, pushing down with an entrancingly smooth roll of his hips. It made it so Erik could feel with a great deal of clarity how aroused he already was. The result was pride rising up in Erik’s chest and him bending down to find nearest patch of skin to nip at. He scratched his teeth over the edge of Charles’s jaw and felt the other man’s hands move on his back, gripping harder at the fabric of his shirt.

Erik pressed his face into the soft hollow of Charles’s neck, inhaling just to smell the cool night air still clinging to him along with the musk of his skin. It drew a growl from Erik’s throat, and he pushed forward with his hips, seeking relief of his own. Charles was as quick to give as he was to receive and suddenly there were clever fingers pressing between his legs, gifting pressure and friction and a glimpse at the relief to come.

Erik’s mind, while not remotely organized, soon came to the conclusion that both of them had far too many clothes on and went about resolving the issue. He moved to rid Charles of his cloak, pulling it off of him and tossing it aside. It was a fine piece of fabric but it so completely encompassed Charles, hiding him away, and at the moment Erik had no patience for it. Charles let him do it, capitulating to the action easily. He was not struggling at all, seemingly content to stay where he was and let himself be undressed.

Once he began Erik found he had little desire to stop so he continued on, undoing Charles’s vest. His fingers felt clumsy but he persisted, unwilling to be stopped so easily. They had yet to undress much at all in front of one another outside of buttons undone out of necessity, so this was entirely new and anticipation swirled around in his chest. Erik was hard-pressed to push it down.

Eventually he managed the buttons and afterward, Charles pushed his hands aside and stripped the rest of his torso himself in a few movements that were admittedly more adept than anything Erik had been managing. Once he’d thrown the fabric aside he stood in front of Erik, half-naked and not doing much to shield himself from Erik’s hungry gaze. Erik ran his eyes over the new skin greedily, setting his hands back on Charles’s waist and brushing his thumbs across the transition there from hidden to exposed.

Charles’s skin was smooth and there was still some softness near his hips. He was entirely unmarred, Erik noticed, skin like cream underneath his fingers. Erik drug his gaze over the clean lines of his body, up from his waist to his shoulders to his neck and the one visible mark on Charles, pale pink in color but appearing much darker on Charles’s skin. His racing thoughts skidded to halt as he focused in on it, and Erik managed to gain back some control.

He was going through with this, as long as Charles was still willing, but there was little reason to be unnecessarily frantic and rough. In a general sense he would hurry on, but here and now, in this small moment amongst so many, Erik forced himself to slow his hands and his thoughts, pressing at his arousal until it was a dull throb rather than a burn. He noticed the space around them, the familiarity of it, the vague warmth of the fire he was glad to have lit preemptively before he’d gone out to meet Charles before, the embrace of the night, the quiet air encompassing the two of them, and he settled himself somewhat.

Erik was glad to have done it. Slowing the tempo of the night would merely make it last longer which was nothing he was averse to. In truth, he wanted this to last as long as it could. So, he leaned in to kiss at the scar on Charles’s neck softly, gentle up against the skin, then off along his shoulder, steadier than before, purposeful in his movements.

Charles let out a shaky breath as he often did when Erik tended to that particular spot and endeavored to press their bodies back together and move his hips, not having sensed the shift Erik had gone through a moment ago. Erik attempted to hold him still by pushing him further against the solid wood of the door and keeping him there. Pressure without movement to go alongside it made Erik’s cock ache but he did his best to ignore it, focusing instead on the specific curve of Charles’s shoulder.

Even held down as he was, Charles remained undeterred, particularly in the wanderings of his hands which escaped Erik’s hold with minimal effort and went immediately to his waistband. For all that his fingers were nimble and sure, Erik could feel the urgency with which they moved. He considered briefly taking the delicate bones of Charles’s wrists in hand and holding them still but he thought it would be best to not use unnecessary force, particularly when he could think of other ways to put himself somewhat out of reach for the time being that would be to their mutual satisfaction.

To that end, he moved back in a way entirely contradictory to what he wanted and then slid down to his knees in a way that wasn’t, tolerating the hard floor as best he could, and tugging Charles’s trousers down with him. (He could admit that this was in part a strategy to at last sate his desire to see all the bare planes of Charles’s body, stark like patches of moonlight up against the dark wood of the door.)

“Erik—” Charles forced out as he did, but Erik thought it was more out of surprise than objection. He reached after him briefly but didn’t exert any true effort to keep him standing, letting his hands fall to his sides. That was just as well, as Erik had more pressing matters to concern himself with.

He took Charles’s cock in his hand and stroked over it. This he had seen before, but that did little to diminish the effect it had on him. His own cock twitched, still achingly tucked away, at the sight of it. Charles slumped back against the door when he did as if someone had cut the cords holding him up, pressing helplessly into Erik’s grip.

Erik gave in then and pressed his lips up against the scarlet tip of it, smearing the stickiness already gathering at the slit over his mouth before opening up to taste it. The skin was hot and wonderful against his tongue and Erik took in more of it and sucked. He moaned, unable to help himself, and braced a hand against one of Charles’s thighs. This he had been wanting to do since Charles had first done it himself, but he hadn’t found the courage to until now when he could only be irritated at himself for waiting so long.

Charles made a strangled noise and his fingers found new purchase in his hair. “Erik!”

Though he was loathe to stop, Erik thought he ought to respond to the urgency of the demand. He pulled back, moving his hand in the interim, and looked up to see Charles’s eyebrows drawn tightly together.

“You don’t have to,” Charles told him, fingers gentle again now that Erik had stopped.

Erik blinked at him, somewhat surprised. “Do you not like it?”

Charles blinked back. “…I do,” he admitted, “but—”

“Then let me,” Erik pleaded. “I want to.”

Slowly, Charles nodded and Erik returned to his task, taking him back into his mouth. For some time he only licked at the skin but when he grew more confident he dared to swallow around him. Charles cried out in response. Erik’s room was soon filled with a symphony of sounds, each of them more intensely erotic. Some were longer, some shorter, higher or lower like notes eased free from a beautiful instrument.

Charles held tight to him and struggled to keep his hips still, his breathing growing harsher the longer Erik tended to him, and lent his voice to the air around them. Erik thought perhaps he should be nervous about someone hearing, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it. He was far too busy indulging in his newfound ability to draw the noises free at all, more interested in hearing as many as he could, in listening to Charles’s voice reshaped, almost entirely free of the confines of language to express his pleasure instead.

He alternated the placement of the hand that was not gripping at the base of Charles’s cock to hold him steady, sometimes squeezing at the lush skin of Charles’s thigh and sometimes pressing down hard between his own legs in an attempt to tolerate the ache there. The self-denial took the edge of his enjoyment of this and turned it sharp. It was beginning to cut into him, ignore it as he might, making him feel unsteady even with the floor unmoving beneath him, but he was determined to hold firm, be patient, savor this.

Erik did not have to tolerate it for much longer because all at once Charles was tugging at his hair again. “Erik,” he called, sounding far away, “Erik, stop, please, I can’t—”

Erik pulled back again, gasping for breath and whipping his eyes up. Charles looked undone, his breathing heavy, his eyes unfocused. “You must stop,” Charles told him, breathless and gorgeous and part of Erik didn’t want to but the rest of him couldn’t stand not kissing him a second longer, so he moved to stand anyway.

It was hell getting up off the floor and that he did regret, but the pain was soon pushed to the back of his mind as Charles yanked him back into his embrace. Erik curled his arms around him, holding him as tightly as he could and again took those lips for his own. The urgency from before rushed back in like a wave held back only by the clumsily constructed dam of Erik’s self-control which had previously proven to be a very poor barrier indeed, and the kiss grew frantic in mere seconds. Charles opened his mouth and Erik reciprocated without thought, as desperate to taste him this way as he had been for the latter.

Erik couldn’t help but pull their bodies flush again, hands drifting down the novel space he’d been denying himself previously, brushing aimlessly, touching to touch. Charles responded magnificently, pressing against his palms when he could and resuming the movement of his hips. The hard line of his arousal, far more blatant than before, up against Erik’s thigh so close to his own was beyond incendiary and Erik pressed back, rubbing up against him, fabric against bare skin shocking him breathless.

Charles clutched close to him, arms tight around his back, holding on as if he was afraid he might pull back for good which he supposed wasn’t entirely unfounded. Determination to make certain that Charles was not so wary by the end of the night mingling with the heat pooling in his stomach made him feel a bit reckless. Pressing up against him bodily, pinning him again up against the door, Erik let his hands slide around the curve of Charles’s hips, under the arch of his spine to grip and squeeze, feeling brazenly at the new skin. Charles’s movements stuttered and he inhaled sharply, but when Erik pressed back up against his mouth from where he’d strayed down the line of his jaw he was smiling.

It was intoxicating to be able to touch Charles so freely, to be allowed the full expanse of his body to explore. It was difficult to not simply get drunk off of it all and pursue the rushed tempo they’d resumed, but that was not what Erik wanted, he reminded himself, pushing aside the lustful fog inundating his mind with some effort.

He returned his hands to the slight inward curve at Charles’s waist and kept them still. His drawing back caused Charles to make a small disappointed noise in his throat and to continue on his own. Again Erik found hurried fingers pulling at his clothes and, tempting as it always was to merely give in to Charles, this time he did capture his wrists, holding them still.

Charles struggled against him with more strength than he’d been expecting considering how compliant he’d been thus far, yanking his hands back toward himself. Erik let him go easily enough, not wanting to overstep. When he did he found Charles frowning at him, some confusion in his eyes, gleaming over top of the darkness consuming most of his irises.

“There is no need to rush,” Erik pointed out, not particularly surprised by the rough state of his voice.

Charles’s eyebrows rose. “Is there not?”

Erik returned his hands to their resting place and leaned in to press a careful kiss under the other man’s jaw, nuzzling there rather than answering.

Charles sighed and pressed a hand carefully against the nape of his neck, letting his body go somewhat slack beneath him. “We’re hardly rushing seeing how you have yet to shed a single article of clothing. Even if we were, what would it matter? The time we have been putting this off grew far beyond the appropriate length long ago.” His voice remained low and soft even as he argued and Erik felt certain it was purposeful.

Erik gave his own sigh. There was an undercurrent of desperation in Charles’s voice that did not come solely from his current state of arousal. They were the words of a man who had been pushed away a few times too many to be patient and Erik could sympathize even if it was he who had been doing the pushing. It was not as though he was oblivious. He could feel how Charles strained against him, how he hardly stayed still for more than a moment at a time. It was not as if he didn’t feel that same urgency twisting within him.

But he could not help but remember that for all that he was letting himself go, doing so completely was not possible. Even if it was, the connotations surrounding it were far too negative for it to be viable in his mind. There was fear there, cool and heavy despite everything else, wariness that was unshakable hovering in the back of his mind. No, even now he had to keep grip on himself. There was no avoiding it, even as excruciating as it was.

Erik doubted he had any answer that would satisfy Charles, so he ducked his head instead, retreating down the center of his chest, closer to the small buds of his nipples. Erik brushed over them, peaked despite the warmth of the room and the heat between them, before replacing his fingers with his lips.

The fingers on his neck slid up to curl into his hair, not pulling but present, comforting perhaps, and Charles let out a long breath. “I want you to look at me.”

Erik glanced up obligingly, but stayed where he was, bent somewhat, and Charles’s grip on his hair did increase then, a light tug rather than a steady hold.

“Really look at me,” Charles corrected. “Up here. Come along.”

Erik supposed he didn’t have much choice. He straightened up and found that Charles was fixing him with a particularly scrutinizing look, one of many he’d experienced that made him feel as though Charles could see directly through him into his mind and into his heart and know all that was there even better than he could himself. He felt as bewitched as he had the first night by the sapphire glow of his eyes and the intelligent depth of his gaze. ( _How much has changed,_ he thought, _and how little._ ) Charles took his face into his hands, holding him steady. Erik did not see much point in resisting the gesture, and as such he stayed where he was.

“Mhm,” Charles whispered. “That’s what I thought. Still keeping a handle on yourself even now. I can see it in your eyes.”

Erik pressed his lips together. As expected Charles had riddled out the true cause of his caution. “As I said before, I merely see no necessity for haste—”

“I do. And you do too, truthfully. Enough with this shield of yours, these chains you lock yourself up with. Let us be honest. Time is a fickle thing, so let us make use of it while we have it,” Charles said, desperation staining his words. Erik attempted to turn his head away, but Charles held him fast. “I’ve seen so much of this structured, stoic you, and I like him very much. He’s wonderful to speak to and argue with. But he is not who I want right now.”

Erik sighed. He did not know what he had expected when he’d practically entreated Charles to give him such a speech, responding the way he had. Perhaps he had wanted to hear it from someone else. Perhaps he had wanted permission. He couldn’t be sure, but already he was relaxing his weak grip on himself.

“I want the man who chased me into the woods and back out of them again,” Charles continued on, words quick and provocative. “I want the man who pushed me over in front of the fire and the man who almost had his way with me the night we spent trading secrets. He’s in here somewhere. I can see him now, through these eyes of yours.” Charles pulled him down to kiss him, frantic and telling. When he pulled back again, he pressed his lips next to Erik’s ear. “Let him free.”

Erik swallowed hard, painfully aware of the fact that Charles did not know the double meaning Erik felt upon hearing those words. He forced it back because of it, focusing on what Charles truly meant. In the end, this fight would be like all the rest: facsimile and hardly worth the effort. There was little use in trying when he knew that he could not keep himself from Charles. He felt the same need as Charles for something else, something more, something carnal in his blood, urging him on. He was sick of fabricating pretenses and he was sick of being afraid, as wise as it most likely was.

Between Charles’s request and his own wild need, Erik found there was little he could do but give in. It was a wordless surrender, but he did not think speech was so necessary at the moment. Instead he took back Charles’s mouth and moved his hands with purpose. One he wrapped back around the hot length of Charles’s cock where it had been trapped between them and the other he pressed to the plush curve of his ass, squeezing tight at the skin, more possessive than before.

Charles moaned for him, louder still, his hips twitching indecisively between the two touches as if unsure which he liked more. Erik supposed if he was going to be reckless that there was little reason to stop there. In that vein he slid his fingers back further to rub at the crinkled skin surrounding the small entrance to Charles’s body. The skin there was delicate, that much Erik knew for certain, and so he was as gentle as he could be, carefully brushing over it. His cock ached, interested anew in the proceedings and the small action and the mere thought of what he was being allowed to do.

It drew a sharp inhale from Charles who pressed his eyes closed and let Erik take more of his weight, leaning up against him and trusting that he would be held. “You have far too many clothes on to be touching me like that,” he murmured, pressing into Erik’s neck and staying there.

It startled a laugh out of Erik who pulled back somewhat. A pause bloomed between them, a beat of silence too long, and Erik thought Charles must be waiting for something. “I suppose you’re right,” he suggested and all at once hands were pulling on his clothes yet again. This time he made no move to impede their progress.

It did not take long before Erik was undoing his boots and standing in only his own skin. The air was cool even within the castle, but he was still flushed with arousal so it mattered little. Erik glanced up at Charles once more and found he was being looked over in the same manner that Charles sometimes poured over the page of a book when he was deeply engrossed in its contents. Erik held still, bearing the scrutiny as best he could, clenching his teeth together and willing himself to not to shrink back virginally. It had been a long while since he had allowed anyone such complete liberty to look, to see all of him, in no small part because he was not without qualms concerning his body (qualms which were only exacerbated when standing next to Charles in the same state). Remaining dressed had been, admittedly, more than a stalling tactic.

There was nothing to be done for it now, however, aside from waiting for some sign that all was still well. He was fortunate in that Charles did not wait long to grant it.

Charles’s lips parted and he let out a small, shuddering breath, reaching out toward where Erik had stepped away, put space between them.

“Oh, Erik,” he murmured, clinging to him once more when Erik closed the distance between them, hiding some in the proximity.

Erik moaned, unable to help himself when Charles wrapped his fingers firm around his cock, stroking it, having ignored it for so long. His pushed up into the gesture and placed a hand flat against the door next to Charles’s head as a bracing point, dropping his head down and soaking in the friction of the movement. He felt Charles’s lips against his shoulder, kissing there.

Charles’s other hand moved and suddenly there were fingers running over a scar he knew he had on his side. It was one of the more obvious ones, though he knew his skin was populated by countless others. Charles was incredibly gentle with it, although there was no reason to be. The skin was rough and healed and only hurt now and again when it rained.

Erik kept his head bowed and swallowed back the new sort of ache that welled up inside of him at the touch. Charles was still curling into him, not moving away. There was nothing dismissive in his eyes when Erik dared to meet them again. Something dark was there, curling like smoke from a fire, but it was lustful heat. Relief bloomed in Erik, a small thing but he was glad for it.

Charles pressed his thumb under the head of his cock and lurched him back into the present moment. He nipped at Charles’s neck and the other man keened quietly. Erik discovered soon after that if he moved his hips correctly he could feel his arousal rubbing up against Charles’s. The feeling was obscene and addictive and once he began he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. It was better once Charles started moving with him, pushing back.

They indulged briefly in the movement, but Charles seemed discontent to stay long as they were. He squirmed some in Erik’s grip, disrupting their rhythm, and pressed his lips back under his jaw. “If you want me to be worth the trouble we’d best move on soon.”

Erik tried to focus on the words and what they meant, shaking himself back into coherency. He swallowed when his mind finally managed to make ends meet. He tilted them back again, up against the door and allowed his hands to drift back down. Charles made a small sound and perked his ass up into Erik’s palms.

Erik looked down at him, using his height to cage him in somewhat. It was less an intimidation tactic and more a way to physically pin Charles down in hopes that it would help him do so in speech as well. “This is what you want? You are not doing this simply because you think it’s something that I want?” One more point of clarity and then Erik would do away with it for the rest of the night. This was too important to be overlooked.

Charles blinked back up at him, not flinching in the least, and shook his head. He bowed his head, turning toward Erik yet again, moving that way as if it were instinctual. It made Erik’s heart skip a beat to think of it. “It’s what I want.”

Erik couldn’t help his quick breath in at the words. He thought to question him further, but he forced himself to believe him. “I have some oil we can use,” he told Charles and could feel his smile against his neck in response.

“Do you now?” Charles laughed and it motivated Erik to move back from him, turning to hide the burn in his cheeks. “At least I can rest easy knowing you did not mean to keep me waiting indefinitely.”

Clearly Charles thought more of his will-power than he should have, though Erik chose not to voice that sentiment. He focused instead on retrieving it from where he had taken somewhat guiltily to storing it in his room some days ago. Erik thought it best to be grateful to have it rather than admonish himself further over it in the moment. There would be little purpose to the latter considering their current predicament.

Turning back was much like stepping out into the brilliant warmth and shine of the day after having lasted a particularly cold, dark night shuttered away inside: relief and gratitude and wonder all at once, reassurance of balance and beauty after doubt. Some primal joy, Erik thought, that never faded out at the renewed coming of the day, something to be counted upon despite everything else, something so remarkable as well as liquid gold pouring out over the land, warm and encompassing, celestial comfort, rays stretching to infinity like the opening of a hand.

But seeing it for the first time, Erik thought, noting the difference. The day after the first night, the visceral reaction to something new and impossible but there, indubitably.

Charles remained up against the door where he’d left him, stripped bare but unflinching, watching him, waiting, always waiting for him. Patience and impatience existed in uneasy cohabitation in Charles’s limbs and features. For all that he was keeping a hold on his expression Erik could see the way he shifted between his feet and moved against the door like leaves on a tree, not content to stay still in the wind, shimmering as they fluttered. For a long moment Erik was caught up in the sight, in the reality of all this, skin burning even as the fire, left unattended, began to die out, blood red flames overtaking those lighter in color but far more fickle and difficult to maintain.

He thought he should say something but the air between them was so full and his breath seemed to have left him so he could not. He thought Charles might instead, usually quicker on his feet, better with his words.

He did, but it was not what Erik had expected, no quip, no clever remark. Charles simply tilted his head to the side some and offered him a smile, a small hopeful thing, far from a smirk, gentle and honest. “Well?”

It was enough to lurch Erik back into productive movement, perhaps quicker than was entirely appropriate because it made Charles laugh. It was easy to overlook however, when he was welcoming Erik back into his embrace as soon as he was within reach. Erik crushed Charles close to him again, kissing him as though he’d been away months rather than seconds. Arms curled about his neck and held on tightly as Charles leaned up into him as though seeking respite within the shelter of his arms and Erik thought that, yes, they could do well with some haste.

So Erik moved: hands back down the smooth lines and firm structure of Charles’s torso, down to his waist once more, grasping there, tracing with fingers and palms.

And then again, hesitation. It incited a small irritated sound from Charles. “Touch me,” he insisted. “Please, Erik.” There was little he could do, up against the door as he was, but he widened his stance, looked up at Erik expectantly.

Erik forced himself into renewed movement, sliding the hand not still grasping the vial of oil down further to the swell of Charles’s thigh, over the top, at last in between, far gentler than before. He stroked the skin there, marveling at how incredibly soft it was as he worked up the courage to press it further back. It was not as though he had not dared to do it earlier and the thought urged him forth to brush the pads of his fingers again over that small declivity.

Charles, dissatisfied with stasis, pushed against him and while there was little true progress to be attained from the gesture there was something reassuring about it to Erik who felt relief at Charles’s continued demonstration of his own need. Erik’s partners were few and far between but nonetheless he’d been with some souls that hid away their desire, covering and quieting it. Oftentimes it was for the purpose of safety, but it was still an unfortunate sight. In contrast Charles did little to restrain it, presenting it for Erik to see in his movements and sounds and entreaties and it made Erik’s blood sing to bear witness.

Briefly Erik considered logistics—why they’d remained up against the hard wood of the door rather than moving to the comfort of his bed he could not fathom, but now it felt too late and too far to do much about it—and lifted one of Charles’s legs so his thigh was flush with Erik’s waist in an attempt to give himself better access. When he released him Charles held himself still as though happy to be positioned, watching intently as Erik dealt with the oil.

“You must tell me if I hurt you,” Erik demanded and would have been more surprised by his shortness of breath if he could not feel how quickly his heart was beating away in his chest. “Or—”

“You will not hurt me,” Charles interrupted him, sounding impatient again.

Erik raised an eyebrow at him and all it earned him was a petulant look.

“I will be sure to inform you if you are doing something incorrectly,” Charles suggested, bright amusement burbling beneath his words. “Would that put your nerves at ease?”

Erik huffed but knew better than to think he would get something more from Charles in his current state. “Somewhat.”

Charles laughed suddenly, his smile spilling back across his face, eyes bright as lightning. “If you wish for simple capitulation there is a rather good way I know of that would force my words to dwindle down to very few. Perhaps if you knew of it you would have received the answer you desire.”

Erik thought it best not to respond and instead pressed the other man bodily up against the door, holding him fast and replacing his fingers up against him, rubbing the slick substance around the whorl of skin. He could feel Charles shudder beneath him and leaned to press his mouth back beneath his jaw. “I know enough.”

Pressing his index finger into the warm grip of Charles’s body was simpler than Erik thought an action that held such gravity might be, but the oil slicked the way and with a small amount of pressure, it was complete. The feeling was enough to scatter Erik’s mind, tossing various portions of it around the room and he slid another finger in alongside the first without much thought. Charles groaned quietly and Erik could feel in incredible detail the way his body was adjusting to the minor intrusion, relaxing around him, accepting.

Erik began to move his fingers, out and then back in, as slowly as he could manage, aware of the pressure around them still. He’d thought of this. Not often, he wouldn’t dare, but sometimes he had, thought of fingers pressing inside, seeking out mirror heat inside of Charles and finding it. Feeling at that warmth with his own hands, getting closer to Charles, closer but never close enough. All that Charles held within himself was still beyond him, his soul an unreachable thing, impossibly far from him yet tantalizing visible, flickering brilliant like distant stars. Nonetheless, this was a step in the right direction.

It was difficult to think esoterically when Charles was writhing on his fingers, restless. Erik leaned into drink again from the hollow of his neck, wishing he didn’t have to manage the vial so he might have another hand free with which to roam. However, he knew better than to lose track of it quite yet and held it fast, focusing instead on pressing further into Charles, easing him open like the split bud of a flower when one was impatient to see the beauty hidden within.

Charles allowed it as he’d allowed Erik so many other indiscretions, hardly complaining even when Erik made two into three. It was different than the warmth of the fire, more intimate, more all-encompassing not unlike the sun on a cloudless day. Erik struggled to keep his motions steady and failed more often than not, far too eager to press back in after he had eased his way out. Charles pushed back against him which did little to slow either the pace of his heart or his thrusts.

“Erik,” Charles called after some indiscriminate amount of time had passed in a haze, drawing Erik back from where his mind had been floating.

He had dropped the vial after all, he noticed, although it had been cushioned by the garments scattered still around their feet, and while he hated to move from where he was Erik knew better than to think he would not still have use for it. He judged by the space granted now to his fingers and the strain in Charles’s voice and his own carnal desperation clawing at his chest that perhaps, at last, it was time, and so he bent down again to his knees to retrieve it. Removing his fingers drew a strangled little noise from Charles and Erik sought to soothe it by making use again of his new vantage point, running a hand over the petal-soft skin of Charles’s thigh and running his lips up over the innermost part of the flesh.

Hands again in his hair were his reward. Their grip tightened considerably when Erik again took Charles’s neglected length in hand and stroked up along it, watching with no small amount of fascination as the motion caused milky white to bead at the tip, sticky like the head of a pistil. Charles moaned openly, enough to fill the room with the sound, and Erik found himself unable to rest longer where he was.

Back on his feet, vial in hand, he found Charles’s eyes on his once more. There was certainty there and trust blatant in the calm-sea clarity of them and it buoyed Erik forth.

Oil again to slick himself and desperately biting back his reaction to touch after deprivation and Charles lifting up again, parting his legs, and pressing in close, feeling again at where he was so viscerally slick from Erik’s work, one hand steady on Charles’s hip, bracing them both, another at the base of his cock, aching at the prospect of what was soon to transpire.

Erik forced himself to breathe, in and out, smelling only Charles and embers from the neglected hearth and nighttime air. “May I?”

The low light of the room was casting Charles in a sanguine glow. Erik thought he might tease but even he was beyond that it seemed for all he offered Erik was a simple, “Yes.”

It was what Erik needed to hear. Charles moaned when Erik pressed inside, and that Erik heard even as he was all but overcome by constant pressure and heat. He sheathed himself as best he could at the angle they were at, echoing Charles as he did, unable to help himself. The revelation that was Charles opening up for him in this way was making it difficult to form coherent thoughts but he forced himself to get even a small grip on himself when he felt Charles start to squirm again.

It was such a simple motion, he thought, instinctive, but he took care with it nonetheless, in and out in a steady rock. Both of them moaned at the loss and gain in turn and afterwards Erik could not help but continue to move, pushing helplessly up into Charles who received him well, pressing back as best he could. Motion became their constant state, meeting each other again and again, renewed union upon every stroke, all the energy left to fester within them from past nights left unfulfilled bleeding out and urging them on.

Erik first had a hand cradling Charles’s leg but it soon became clear to him that there was no need for it with how tightly Charles was clinging to him and he moved it off to do something more productive with its time such as stroking Charles’s cock where it was still straining between them. Charles was a veritable spectacle like this, consumed completely by his own pleasure, taking all that Erik gave him and giving just as much in return. Erik reclaimed his lips and Charles kissed him back hungrily, more passion than skill. Erik adored him for it.

There was an exquisite freedom in all of this, Erik noticed, a liberation of place and self that he had rarely felt in his life and he was desperate to inundate his senses with it, overwhelm them so that he might take the sensation with him beyond this night, hold it close to his heart always. He worked to grasp onto it as best he could in the moment for he knew neither of them could hold out for very long at all.

He was not mistaken.

Very soon it devolved into desperate hands moving restlessly from one patch of skin to the next, gripping tight, and rough, deep thrusts, enough force to jostle the door, and both of them moving as one melding into each other, collapsing the space in between as much as their bodies would allow, addicted to the proximity and the thought of it disappearing all together, and blunt nails digging into Erik’s back and Charles pressing his face into Erik’s neck, barely muffling his wordless pleas, and heat all around him, under his skin and over top of it, blurring together, erasing him in the interim.

Charles came with little warning while Erik was working on sucking a mark into his neck, gasping and shuddering and spilling over Erik’s fingers. Erik pulled back to watch and was gratified to have done so. “Oh god, Erik,” Charles murmured, collapsing into Erik’s chest almost entirely.

Erik could not find it in himself to do anything but follow after him, too far gone to do much other than press in deep and let himself go entirely, growling Charles’s name into his neck, holding fast to him. By the time he came back to himself Charles was moving again and Erik found that everything was not over yet. He drew Erik back into a drugging kiss, hands running up his back smooth as running his palm down the spine of a book.

Erik allowed himself to be pulled back into the moment even as foggy as his mind remained, hands roaming over Charles’s body, grasping at any skin he came across, squeezing, feeling, pinning Charles up against the door yet, feeling Charles return the gesture. There was a frantic clumsiness to it that Erik could not help but enjoy, more than happy to indulge Charles in this extension of what had occurred between them to the point of being dizzy from it.

He retreated somewhat to kiss over the soft edge of Charles’s jaw and down to his neck, marking a path with lips and teeth down the length of it. It tempted another groan from deep in Charles’s chest and he tilted his head back to allow Erik to do what he would. Erik paid homage to the flesh beneath his lips and felt reassured somehow that their release had not been synonymous with any sort of finality. There was momentum still within them urging them forth, deeper into this night, deeper into each other. Erik felt there was little he could do to resist its call.

Charles moved suddenly, pushing him back in the interim. He slung an arm up around Erik’s shoulders and pulled himself up by it as though he was planning to jump up into Erik’s arms. Erik meant to prepare for such a possibility but was thoroughly distracted by the fact that the shift had caused them to become abruptly detached. Fortunately Charles only intended to press his lips to Erik’s neck which did some good at softening the sudden loss Erik felt.

Sinking the tips of his fingers into Charles’s hips, Erik let the shorter man do as he would, startled but pleased by his renewed exploration. Erik could not recall if Charles had ever attempted such a thing before, at least not with such purpose. Erik assumed it to be preference although he had never objected to Erik doing the same. Perhaps this was belated reciprocation or mindless touching as before, driven more by a desire for continued mutual pleasure than anything else.

No matter as Erik enjoyed the feeling of Charles’s lips on his skin greatly. He was not gentle as he could sometimes be. This too was hungrier and Erik leaned into it, letting his eyes drift closed once more to focus better on the novel sensation. Charles’s mouth was as warm there as it was up against his lips, as were the quick brushes of his tongue. That brought to mind the first afternoon they’d spent together in his bed and made arousal flourish anew in his chest.

Charles grew braver soon enough and Erik could feel teeth on his skin. He took a quick breath in, bracing against the slight ache that came with such contact. For all that Charles was eager he was always quite gentle, even overly so. Erik supposed the night had given him some degree of confidence he had not had before and did not begrudge him it. The line between pleasure and pain was razor thin so to waver between the two was hardly uncommon. Erik could not deny that there was something exhilarating about it as well, not wholly unlike running further from home when it was already past dark.

Erik did not immediately assume anything when it first occurred, far too caught up in the heat between them and believing it to have been a mistake, and he did not assume anything afterward as he found his ability to think coherently completely lost to him.

It was a tight pinch at first and he hissed, leaning back from it. He supposed Charles bitten harder than he meant to, slipping from nipping to purposeful pressure mistakenly. It took mere seconds for it to bloom into something much worse.

It burned nonsensically for Erik knew he was far from the fire, but there was no other word for the sensation. It radiated out from the initial point of contact, immediately overwhelming, spreading down his arm and into his chest. Erik cried out and jerked back instinctively, although he found it difficult to move. In hindsight he would describe it like a toxin for it spread through his whole being at once, seeping up into his thoughts and into his vision. Both went horrifyingly blurry, his focus drawn to the excruciating pain he was feeling to the point that he could not feel his legs or his arms. They might as well have not existed any longer. Dark spots clouded his vision like someone had dripped ink into his eyes and reality felt very far away.

He was very much alone with the pain, frozen entirely, unable to do anything or even know what had caused it.

Erik felt himself falling all at once and though the impact was dull, the hard wood beneath him nothing compared to the searing in his skin, it was enough to drag him back somewhat from the darkness he’d been pulled so easily into. His thoughts were limited, each one a struggle, but he was aware of what was happening as he had not been for some unknowable period of time. Pain could manifest eternity like nothing else, after all.

He was on the floor before Charles who was pressed up against the door as though he was being held there by some invisible force. His expression was one of horror the likes of which Erik had seen only once before, when Charles had discovered him injured by the door so many weeks ago, and never to such a degree. It did little to calm his nerves, and there was nothing he could do about it. He could not move if he wanted to.

All he could manage was to bring a hand up to press against his neck, shouting out again at the pain it caused. The longer it lasted the worse it got, travelling as though through his very veins. His vision darkened again. He managed to see Charles move towards him, flickering as if he were blinking. His mouth was red, Erik noticed.

Erik was being subsumed by the burning sensation, suffocating slowly. It was a brutal exsanguination of his consciousness and his self. He was drowning in something unknown and he could not stop it. He couldn’t for the life of him remember what had brought him to this point nor did he see how he could go on from here. He had always wondered how it was that one so easily forgot pain but when confronted with it anew it felt like one had known nothing else for as long as they were alive. It was an awful power to hold, to be able to negate so entirely, and Erik hated to confront it. He supposed that was the point.

There was weight on top of him all at once, and pressure again on his wound. Another noise was ripped free from his throat and he wondered how he could produce such a sound when he could barely breathe, but there it was, echoing around the room that he supposed must still exist.

The next sensation was strange, not something he could put a name to so easily, but it was far from anything he had experienced thus far. Before it was something seeping in, but now it was something being drawn out, pain itself even. Bit by bit it was pulled from him, back from where it had come in slow dregs. Slowly he regained feeling in his limbs and his own thoughts were returned to him.

The odd feeling continued on and Erik hardly knew what to think. However, once he got his wits about him, he was forced to address what actually had happened. Erik thought himself well-versed in the surreal, but he was still vastly unprepared for the knowledge soon to be bestowed upon him. The night was not over yet.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been many years since Charles had felt such overwhelming terror and it rushed through his veins like frigid water.

It wasn’t intentional. Of course it wasn’t—but it was. He had done it. He had done this. Erik’s blood was still in his mouth, tangy and strange in a way Charles had not expected but hardly had time to ponder at the moment. He had managed to shove himself off when he realized what he’d done mostly by pushing Erik far away from him, down to the floor.

Charles cried out at the loss, unable to help himself. Everything in him was screaming paradoxically to jump on Erik again, sink his fangs back into the vulnerable flesh of his neck, already breached. Charles could see scarlet running down his chest in long sticky trails, making his mouth water. It was all but unbearable to stop once you started. It was a lesson learned early and not soon forgotten. Charles thought it was only through his shock that he managed it.

Because of that, however, he clung for several long moments to the wood of the door behind him, desperately holding himself in place, swallowing to get the taste out of his mouth, wrestling desperately with his nature to clear his thoughts.

It would be so easy, Charles knew. It was always so easy after the initial attack. The victim was more or less useless from then on, unable to move, unable to think. That was the intention. So horribly easy.

It was Erik’s cries that finally tore him from his trance and startled him into action. Charles couldn’t bear to hear Erik’s voice stretched out around those pained syllables. Anger and shame flooded through him, but he knew there wasn’t time. Worse than finishing him off would be to let his unfinished work be. Charles knew exactly what would happen if he did such a thing and there was not a crueler fate in the world as far as he was concerned.

He knew he must get rid of the venom, his mind spinning as he watched Erik look up blearily at him, shaking on the stone floor at his feet, which would mean sucking it out without going too far. Charles swallowed hard, vaguely disgusted by how he could still taste the blood in his mouth. He did not know if he could do it but he had to try. For Erik, he had to.

Charles rushed forward, getting on top of Erik and easily pressing him down. The mark didn’t look like much, two pinpricks evenly spaced. ( _A very strange mark_ , as someone had once remarked to him. _But certainly not very painful I would think._ Charles knew better.) He gathered all of his willpower before he bent his head and pressed his mouth back to it. He kept his fangs back forcibly. They were unnecessary after the initial puncture in any case, so it was not overly difficult.

Then he began. He could still taste Erik’s blood but it was contaminated noticeably. Not a repulsive flavor but not something Charles would want to drink willingly. It was not unlike drinking wine or water, he thought. Manageable, but not enjoyable. Fortunately, that meant he was less nervous about going too far. Charles set about swallowing it as quickly as he could, working frantically to undo what he’d done.

In the background his mind churned, incredulous over having done it in the first place. He had been tempted of course but he never could have imagined that he would so completely lose control over himself. He should have known better than to let things go so far—and he had but he had not wanted to admit it. Everything was so different with Erik, and he had used it as an excuse to loose his hold on himself too far. It was one thing for Erik to do so, but another entirely for him. He was too greedy, too selfish, and he had taken far too much.

The taste was transitioning, Charles noticed, the liquid filling his mouth becoming far more palatable and again everything in him seized, hunger cramping his stomach. One full swallow of blood and Charles felt achingly dizzy, starving for this. But the taste was still strange, too metallic, off somehow. It was more apparent than it had been upon first taste and it allowed him to again pull back without going too far.

Charles still didn’t completely understand it, but he was extremely grateful. He was too weak, he saw now, to do something so heroic through will-power alone. It was only luck that had kept him from committing another atrocity.

Charles had enough mind to get off of Erik. He should leave, he knew, run as fast as he could away from this place. When Erik realized what had occurred, what he’d done, what he was—

But he could not help himself. He rushed to check Erik’s eyes, looking him over, searching for a sign that he would be alright again, that he had not snuffed out the most brilliant soul he’d ever stumbled across in all his many years of wandering. At first there was not much hope. Erik was slumped down against the floor unmoving, but Charles would not believe it, too desperate for the truth to be otherwise. He pressed a palm down against Erik’s chest, smearing blood there too, thoughtlessly, frantically feeling for that steady beating he’d grown so familiar with. At first he feared he could feel nothing at all, but then—yes, there! Life, miraculously, still within Erik. His heart beat and his eyes fluttered open and Charles could not help but sob because of it.

“Erik,” he cried, vision frustratingly blurry, “oh, Erik, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Erik—thank god, you’re alright, oh god—” He choked on his words, devolving into tears.

“Charles,” Erik whimpered, sounding like a drowned man. He was struggling to sit up and Charles hurried to assist him. The color was all but gone from his cheeks, sallowness where so recently there had been a lovely flush. He shook as if buffeted by a chilling wind, but his skin still felt warm to Charles as it always had. He brought a hand up with effort to press against his neck.

Charles swallowed hard around the thick taste of guilt in his throat, forcing himself to pull back once certain Erik could hold himself up, covering his mouth with his hand. Erik appeared to be in shock, slow to respond and move, but it would not last forever. He yearned desperately to do something to fix this, to reverse time somehow, but what could he do?

There was nothing. The realization was sickening, twisting his stomach and drawing hopelessness to him like a heavy blanket.

“What happened?” Erik demanded, breathing heavily and Charles, when he turned back to him, feared he could see everything in his eyes, the truth of it all, everything he had been hiding. Surely now he could see him as he was.

There was some realization there, due to the blood on his mouth perhaps, but not enough, not hardly enough. Part of Charles was desperate for Erik to lash out at him, but he did not. It occurred to Charles that Erik was not the type for superstition so to be faced with such an extreme shift in reality might not come so easily to him as it did for others.

The persistent thought that he should be moving, running, getting somewhere safe far away from here was in the back of his mind but he refused to heed it. He could not, stuck frozen on the floor as Erik slowly awoke from his stupor. Charles could see his mind working even in the low light of the room. The fire had died out, burned down to ash and ember, causing the room to glow red as if he had managed to wound the castle itself, crimson from the walls dripping down, accusatory.

“It’s my fault,” Charles confessed in a rush, unable to help himself. “It’s my fault. I have never been more sorry in all my life, Erik, please—” He stopped himself before he could beg forgiveness, knowing it would be a fruitless task.

Erik blinked at him and finally, there, some comprehension. Charles shrunk back from it as if he could hide himself. “I do not understand,” Erik muttered. “I cannot…”

Charles wondered how everything had shifted so quickly like one wrong step off the side of a cliff. He shook his head. There was no explanation, no excuse he could give.

Erik lifted a hand up to his face and Charles flinched back. It drew a frown from the other man. He was undeterred, grasping Charles’s chin and lifting up his face. Charles tensed but did not attempt to pull back. He could not, however, meet Erik’s eyes.

“I…” Erik began, the first of several attempts to speak, each ending in failure. “Look at me,” he finally demanded.

Charles did, forcing himself. When he managed that much he found the cool blue of Erik’s eyes calculating, attempting to understand yet. Their eyes met for a long moment and at last something seemed to occur to Erik who let go of him abruptly, his eyebrows lowering. Charles swallowed hard and waited, still wishing somewhat that Erik would enact the anger he felt toward himself, still afraid that his wish would be granted.

Erik moved back from him at last, putting distance between them, slowly shaking his head. “Leave,” he demanded, louder than before, enough to make Charles startle. “Leave me now. I can’t think, I need… Go to your room and wait for me there.” He struggled to pull himself up by the bedframe and Charles moved instinctively to help him but Erik waved him back, fixing him with an expression far closer to anger than before. “Leave, Charles. Now. I had best find you there when I come.”

There was an unspoken warning twisted up in his final statement that caused Charles to move, getting shakily to his feet. Everything in him ached illogically to stay, but he knew he must obey. Erik was being ridiculously kind to him doing what he was, Charles knew, and he could not spite that kindness so easily. He hurried to gather his clothes and dress enough to cover himself. Shame rushed over him as he did. The fact that he could still both feel the impression of Erik inside of himself and taste him thick in the back of his throat made everything exponentially worse.

Charles chanced one last look at Erik who had managed to get to his feet at the very least, but was not looking toward him. He had not expected different, but it still pained him immensely to see it. Finally then he left, left the dying fire and the blood on the floor and the echo of Erik’s cries behind, all but sprinting back toward the room in which he had been staying these past few months.

He felt watched by the castle as he ran, accused and entirely guilty. This safe haven had been breached, desecrated by him. Charles didn’t think it was physically possible but he yearned purge the contents of his stomach. It was revolting to feel it slosh around the way it was, far too loud in his ears. Without Erik to focus on reality as it now was fell down upon him and the consequences sprouted like thorns all around him.

To think, just earlier that night—

Everything had been going so well. At last they could bring everything between them to fruition, months of yearning and endless attempts. At last it could have been done and all could have reverted to normalcy, as it had been before.

_Couldn’t even wait for him to get rid of you naturally now that he’s made use of you, could you?_ Charles thought viciously at himself. _Couldn’t control yourself for a few hours more until it was done?_

He had reached his room by that point, yanking open the door and throwing himself inside. For a moment he took advantage of the support the door gave but was soon forced back from it, too close was it to the position he had found himself wonderfully pressed into hardly half an hour before—

Charles shook himself hard and forced himself to move over to the fire, fumbling to light it so that the darkness of the room would not be so encompassing. He needed to think of what to do next, if he would dare disobey Erik’s order, but he could hardly move or think as it was. As much as he was rushing he waited so long to move once he had managed to light a match that it burned down to his fingers. It did not hurt him but Charles dropped it nonetheless, watched it fade out on the stone of the hearth, watched the light fade to nothing before his eyes.

He took a deep breath, an unnecessary but steadying habit, and reached for another match. He must get ahold of himself. He must. Whether he was to face Erik or flee that would be necessary. The torrent of his mind and his soul was unlike anything he had experienced before, but there was nothing else to be done than attempt to quell it somewhat. Charles lit the fire, blew at the kindling, stayed where he was, kneeling on the hard cold floor, staring into the new light.

_What have you done?_

What was more frustrating than anything was he knew, deep within himself, that what he feared was not so much the immediate repercussions but the destruction of the fragile future he had been clinging to as of late, something he had never had hope of before, suddenly before him. Not something meant for him, that much he had proven, but something he ached for so horribly.

But that hope was gone now, had parted from him, and that was something he must accept.

That task was far too complex and exhausting for his current state of mind in any case. Simple tasks, he thought, simple tasks to regain some semblance of calm.

Charles moved over to the pitcher of water resting on the table closer to the bed and used its contents to clean off his face and hands, attempting to wash them of their guilty color. Stained pink liquid fell through his fingers and onto the floor as he did but he paid it little mind, more occupied with scrubbing at his skin. It felt like a fruitless task, like he could scrub and scrub for hours and still make no progress, like he would feel Erik’s blood soaked into his skin forevermore.

The sentiment did little to make him feel better and he tried to shake free of it, continuing on with his task, knowing he was making progress and that no matter what was to come, looking so entirely monstrous was not going to be of any use to him. He went as far as to rinse his mouth, aching to get rid of the taste still lingering there.

Finally there, some distraction. Again the strange taste came to mind. It was not the time to be considering such things, but he could not seem to get beyond it. It was…oddly familiar. It had been some time since he had tasted human blood but he had not forgotten the taste, sweet and cloying and addictive. That was not what this was. Not animal, obviously.

Charles blinked into the fire, wiped at his face with his sleeve, moving to go and gather his cloak, pulling it over himself in an attempt to bring himself some comfort. It had been a constant companion of his when he had nothing else and while it was merely a scrap of beautiful fabric, it had a warmth to it which it always shared with him when he sought solace within it. He sank into one of the chairs near the smaller hearth, midway between the door and the bed, not settling completely but not quite on the verge of escape either.

Something in between…?

The realization was shocking when it occurred to Charles, too strange for truth, so far beyond what he could have ever dared to imagine and yet—

It was not the first time Charles had experienced such a taste. Now that he dug back down into the depths of his mind he could recall the incident clearly. It marked a sudden imparting of knowledge, reassurance where once there had been ambiguity, although it was hardly comforting to know for sure. Charles had always wondered if there were other creatures such as himself, if the other scary stories were true, and by chance he had gotten his answer.

And now here again he was being faced with it. Denial rushed in afterward because surely not. This was his mind weaving stories, seeking desperately for some way this might not all shatter apart, some way that he might not look quite so horrible, to soften the pain of his own exposure. Nonetheless, once it was in his head it was difficult to shake the notion free. It was not as though there was no evidence for it.

Erik disappeared one night a month by his calculations, hiding his true purpose as best he could. His excuses were strange, although believable when set up against the opposing explanation. His solitude, seemingly purposeful, his secrecy, his insistence that others keep their distance, the strange circumstances under which he arrived home again—nothing did not fit within the hypothesis. Charles considered it further, trying to equate _Erik_ and _changeling_ in his mind.

_That’s not the right word_ , Charles’s mind whispered, and he supposed it had a point. He toyed with the hem of his cloak, pulling at it, aching at the realization of how alike they truly were after all, marveling at how this had happened, how two beings who were not meant to exist had crossed paths. The world truly was an unbelievable place.

“Werewolf,” Charles mumbled to himself, trying out the alien word on his tongue.

Somewhere deep within him beyond the wariness to accuse an innocent man of being even somewhat alike to himself and the distrust in his own judgement where such odd realities were concerned, near where his heart used to beat or so, Charles knew he was correct in his deduction.

He knew not what to do with the knowledge. He supposed that Erik would be just as devastated as he was were someone to find out, if he were to be dragged out from the shadows, all his careful work at keeping hidden destroyed in one fell swoop. He had done nothing to deserve it, had not hurt anyone.

Still, something desperate in Charles clung to the knowledge selfishly, knowing full well that he could not go into this empty-handed. Better to have something unforgivable to gamble with than to enter with only everything to lose.

Charles swallowed hard, curling further into the chair, drawing himself back out of his thoughts. He should leave, knew nothing good could come of staying, but he could not bring himself to. Erik would need to be the one to come along and uproot him. He was too foolish, too weak to do it himself because he knew that he could not bear to leave when even the slimmest hope of being allowed to stay still existed.

Charles had always thought that if something was going to get him killed one day it would be his inability to give up hope when he knew with all but full certainty that it was a futile effort. This life did not lend itself well to that sort of thinking, but it was not as though Charles had chosen this path in the first place. Who he was and who he had been made into had never managed to find peace and he doubted they ever would.

It took Erik a long while to appear at his door which Charles did not consider to be a particularly good sign, although it was perhaps to be expected. He would need to clean his wound, gather himself, come to terms with the impossible. Although, if he was as Charles guessed him to be, maybe that in and of itself would not be quite as difficult of a task.

He entered without much ceremony, almost as though he meant to slip inside without drawing attention to himself. Charles did not see the purpose when taking into account the mostly-abandoned state of the castle, but also had little room in his mind to be dwelling on such inconsequential details. He sat up in his chair stiffly, tensing. He thought surely if his heart could beat it would be racing away in his chest.

Charles fought hard not to run to him, to see if all was well. He wanted badly to check the wound, insure that no permanent damage beyond scarring had been done, but he knew he could not. Instead he wallowed in the realization that he had added yet another scar to Erik’s already expansive collection.

Erik closed the door with care, stayed turned away from him for longer than was entirely necessary which did little for Charles’s nerves. However, when he did at last turn to face him Charles could not say he felt any better. The expression was well-contained, as was Erik’s common state when expressing his emotions but Charles could peer through the cracks and see something horribly familiar underneath.

Fear lurked in the corners of Erik’s eyes and in the crevices of his frown, or at the very least wariness, not unlike how one might look at a wild animal contained within a cage of which the quality was highly uncertain. Charles fought hard not to react to it, but couldn’t entirely contain the feeling that his chest was caving in on itself. To see Erik look at him such—it was a sight he had hoped he would never have to bear witness to.

Erik stayed close to the door, did not advance. He was holding something in his hands, Charles noticed, forcing himself to be cautious of that fact rather than merely curious, but he hid it well behind his back. There was something else to his mien, Charles thought. Surprise? That he’d stayed perhaps.

Charles stayed silent, waiting. There were an endless multitude of things Erik might say and in spite of himself Charles could not help but wonder which one he might pick.

“I have strained my imagination for some time now,” Erik began, voice steady, betraying nothing, “attempting to conjure some other explanation for what occurred than what I have come to realize is the truth with little success.”

Charles pressed his lips together, stayed very still. He could still see the mark on Erik’s neck and to look at it was to feel fresh cuts pressed into his own skin.

“I do not wish to believe it,” Erik admitted and Charles bit back a swell of desperation that he would find some way to deny it, as unthinkable as that would be. “I’d heard stories, of course, but I hardly believed them. Monsters of the night that drain the life from their victims? Lifeless corpses with fangs that are said to fly and burn in the sunlight and a whole manner of other oddities? These are children’s tales, told to frighten them off from running astray in the woods or after nightfall.”

_I thought that too once_ , Charles thought, dropping his eyes, unable to help himself. Truthful or otherwise, hearing such words directed at himself from Erik was excruciating.

“And yet here you are.” When Charles drew back the courage to once more raise his face he found Erik’s gaze intensely scrutinizing as though looking straight down to his very bones, as if he might find something revealing there when compared to his own, something other. “Will you deny it?”

Charles could not help but think that he sounded almost hopeful, somewhere twined within the words, but he pushed the notion aside. He knew he could attempt to lie or deflect, but he doubted it would do much good. If anything it would only upset Erik further to be dishonest. “No.”

Slowly Erik nodded, the motion jerkier than usual as if he was being tugged by a string. “I didn’t think you would.” He took a deep breath and Charles tracked the movement of his chest out of habit. “Even now you surprise me. I thought certainly you must flee from this place. I had little hope of finding you where I ordered you to be. And now too you confess when you could just as easily stay silent. You have nothing to gain from it, you know.”

Charles clenched his teeth together. _That is not it_. _That is not it at all_. “I have little to gain from being dishonest. If you were in my position do you truly think being stubborn would be of any use? To deny it now would be to insult your intelligence and I have no intention of doing so.”

Erik appeared startled to hear him speak, however he steadied again within a few moments, regaining control over himself, resituating his mask of calm. “That is respectable,” Erik told him. “You are incredibly adept at the act you put on. I feel and fear in equal parts that this must be routine for you.”

The fire crackled nearby and Charles ignored it where normally he might spare it a glance. “Act?” he echoed. This was not how he had expected this confrontation to play out in the least to the point where he had no firm grasp on Erik’s meaning at all.

Something like anger flashed hot in Erik’s eyes where it hadn’t been there before. “So you do mean to lie. I suppose you are only honest when it’s beneficial to you. It is not difficult to spin pretty words about truth and morals to cover the gaps between.”

Indignation flared in Charles’s chest, sudden as a lightning strike. “I have spoken nothing false to you this whole night. I do not begin to understand what it is you allude to.”

Erik laughed at him, sharp and ugly and Charles flinched back from the sound, unnatural as it was. The other man shifted up against the door and Charles thought he must be shifting his grip on the object he clutched. “Your deception has power over me no longer, monster. I did not come here to hear your silver tongue twist more words into what they are not. I know now why you came here and I have come to see to it that you leave this place and this land and never return. I should have thrown you out that first strange night but I was weak and I was foolish and everyone under my watch almost paid the price for my ignorance.”

_Monster_. Yet again Charles flinched back from it as if he could hide from the effect it had on him, tearing at him from the inside as if someone had dug fingers into his chest, taken a handful of what was there and yanked upon it. Regardless, much of Erik’s speech was inscrutable. It seemed to Charles that he was being accused of something that he had no knowledge of.

He set his jaw, attempting to stand his ground somewhat, to not shrink entirely. Pride truly was a resilient thing, present when by all accounts it should be long gone. “And why is that?” Charles asked. “You seem suddenly to know very much about me, sir, even things that I myself do not know. I’m curious to hear of them.”

A muscle twitched in Erik’s jaw. At another time it would have had Charles biting back a small, victorious smile. He had learned well how to tempt a reaction out of Erik, the right words to say, the proper phrasing. He wondered now if that familiarity would be of use to him or would only accelerate them toward the inevitable breaking point hovering inert at the end of all of this.

“You dare to mock me, now of all times,” Erik hissed and Charles thought he may have underestimated just how close to the surface his temper had been simmering before this. Erik’s anger had always been a quiet beast, difficult to spot coming but fully present once it had manifested. “Foolish creature.”

Charles wondered at himself somewhat, that he would be insubordinate now of all times. Certainly to some degree he deserved Erik’s harsh words, but anger was a much simpler thing than everything that had been twisting within him before. He supposed that was why he was so quick to respond rather than sit back and take Erik’s them as they were, bear the punishment that was passed down to him, the judgement he knew he most likely deserved.

All at once Erik pulled his hands out from behind his back. It startled Charles to his feet, suddenly yearning for mobility, though there was no real reason for it. Charles didn’t know what he had expected for Erik’s hands were empty, no weapon, no mode of defense, only his clenched fists now visible where before they had been obscured. Guilt percolated within Charles’s stomach where the stolen liquid still sat heavy. Had he expected Erik to come brandishing fire and stakes and crucifixes?

No, Erik was not the monster in this story.

Charles backed down, hovering unsteadily in front of the chair, wary to move too much. “I ask to ease my own confusion, not to insult you.”

“Do you take pleasure in having your accomplishments spoken to you?” Erik demanded, unappeased. “Perhaps that’s part of the fun.”

Charles had never heard such a tone of voice from Erik before, cold and distrustful, aiming to hurt. He had pushed him away, but it was performative. Charles knew well enough that this was not. He frowned, unable to help himself, frustrated by the accusatory nature of the words and the fact that he could not place what might have caused them. He supposed he must play along somewhat to get his answers and stayed silent rather than object.

Erik’s scowl grew in severity. “Very well. I see now that this was your purpose all along.” Erik raised a hand to touch the fresh mark on his neck, not tended as carefully as it necessitated. Charles watched the way his shadow bent when he moved, disfigured by the intersection of surfaces in the room as if it were a separate being entirely, looming over them both. “It’s a clever ruse. You play the part very well. Poor, helpless boy stranded out in the rain. That must make it exceedingly simple, I imagine. All you need is an invitation inside and from there you can proceed.” He spat the final word as if it were something filthy and all at once Charles understood.

The minor irritation before was nothing compared to the livid flames he felt pitch up within himself. Erik truly believed that he had come here with the intention of draining the life from castle’s residents, that he had tricked his way inside and stayed only for that single purpose. It was ludicrous to think of it, entirely insulting that Erik would think so little of him. Moreover it was wholly nonsensical and Charles could not keep his outrage within himself.

“That is what you believe, is it?” he demanded, feeling his hands shake. He clenched his fingers into fists, holding them tightly in his palms in an attempt to keep them still. “Everything was a lie. It was all a farce from the start, everything precisely planned. Seduction in pursuit of a meal and nothing more.”

“What else am I meant to think?” Erik shouted, taking a step forward at last.

Charles held his ground, refusing to be frightened off so easily. “What purpose would I have in waiting so long? What good would it have done for me to spend so many days toiling away in your garden if that were the truth? If I had wanted to kill you I could have done it the night you first brought me inside, or any other day in between. Even you must rest at some point. And what of the others? What defense would they have had if I had any intention of making use of them? Yet still they roam your halls unscathed. What sense do you make of that?”

That gave Erik pause to some extent, but the calm did not last for long. Erik was stubborn in this false belief as he was in all of the others he kept locked within that smart head of his. “I do not pretend to understand the workings of your mind. I have often known creatures of prey to take sadistic pleasure in the hunt as well as the kill. It is not uncommon.”

Charles could not begin to imagine a response, largely because he could see the resolve in Erik’s eyes. This was something he wanted to believe, most desperately. This was what made sense of things in his mind that never could believe someone might simply care for him, even someone like Charles, in the first place.

_What of tonight_? he yearned to ask. _What would possibly compel me to stop? What of the afternoons in your study spent talking, the nights in your bed? What of_ tonight _? Is that meaningless? Must I possess no emotions aside from bloodlust simply because of what I am?_

So many objections and pleas and furious responses swam within Charles but he swallowed them back. This was not a battle that he would win. The end was in sight and he could hardly see himself emerging victorious. There would be no winning tonight or ever. The facsimile of a resolve he had managed to build cracked and broke neatly in half and Charles could feel wetness in the corners of his eyes again.

Erik took it as a sign of admission which was just as well. “I have heard more than enough from you for tonight and forever. I wish to be done with this once and for all. Let this be a warning.” Erik stayed far from him but Charles fought to keep from shrinking back as though he were standing over him, inches away. “You will go far from this place, never to return. If you dare to enter this castle again, know that I will not be so merciful twice.” Erik swallowed hard. “I should end your life here and now for the sake of every living being in this land.”

Charles fought back the ache in his throat. “Why don’t you?” He was drowning again, drowning in shame and fear and the awful urge to agree with Erik, or worse yet to attempt to make him change his mind.

Erik only stared at him and finally there, something familiar. Loss echoed between them, a tangible thing in the space. It expanded out, spreading like silence after a summer storm, unsettling relief after so much energy and noise. For all that he was playing the part of the hero, the white knight, Charles could see a sheen in Erik’s eyes as well. It was not horribly reassuring.

“If I ever hear tell of you again, I will not hesitate to do just that. I will reveal you for what you are and, if our paths do cross, take back the stolen life from your veins by any means necessary,” Erik continued, chillingly certain. “Tonight you will depart from me for good. Is this something you are able to comprehend?”

Charles thought of all the things he might say, the knowledge he now held. The threat of his identity being uncovered was far more frightening than death in many ways. There was nothing worse than to be known when you were as Charles was. It would not be difficult to counter that particular threat with one of his own, but Charles could not bring himself to be so cruel. Erik’s secret he would keep for himself, along with all the others.

There was finality at last in Charles’s mind. He could see the edge of the cliff for what it was, tired of denying it. He cast one last glance into the fire, around this room that had been gifted to him so easily. Charles loathed knowing that Erik would see this as yet another betrayal, another reason to lock himself away from the world, another point in an argument against himself. Whether he had taken Erik’s blood or not, he had most certainly stolen away more of his life than he had any right to and for that he despised himself.

“I understand,” Charles said, swiping at his eyes. He knew there was nothing else to be done but obey. He would leave this place, this home, and he would leave this man as he was always meant to. It was not within his right to stay or to keep, only to use and to move on.

Erik let out a heavy breath. “Good. In that case I will see you on your way.”

Charles nodded and forced himself to move toward the door. Erik moved out of the way, keeping considerable space between them. Charles vehemently did not think of how so recently there had been no space between them at all and how close to perfection that had felt.

Erik trailed him down the dark halls of the castle, grown so familiar over the past months. Charles knew he would miss it as much as he would miss Erik himself. Finally they arrived at the door. There he paused, unable to help himself. He thought Erik might shove him forward, but he remained silent until Charles could find it himself to open it up and step outside.

It was all he could do to not collapse to his knees on the doorstep and beg at Erik’s feet to be allowed to stay, somehow, some way. It was so dark outside, Charles thought, finding no comfort in the night. He wished instead for firelight and phantom warmth and fingers on his skin and no fear at all in Erik’s eyes—

He must leave. “You will not believe me when I say it,” Charles said, still facing out toward the night. He could not bear to look at Erik at the moment as much as he yearned to do so, to take one last memory of him to keep, “but I truly am sorry for all that I have done. I’m sorry for what I am and what I cannot be. I’m sorry to have hurt you so. I hope very much that you can find happiness and that your life will be full. I hope you can forget these nights and—and me.”

Charles heard Erik take a shaky breath in and out. “Charles—”

“And please do tend to the flowers,” Charles said, hurrying to interrupt him, unwilling to be rejected again. He was too weak for it. “There is no need for them to hurt needlessly.” He tried to force a more neutral look onto his face before he did turn and failed entirely. “Goodbye.”

Erik stood in the doorway, rigid and silent. The fear was gone from his eyes as was the anger, leaving something Charles had no name for. All he knew was that he could not meet them for more than a moment, so overwhelming was that pale moon gaze. The night was not comforting, but it was familiar and Charles hurried to wrap himself in it, desperate for the protection it provided.

He stepped off the doorstep, gathering his cloak tight to himself, took several strides at a steady pace and then broke into a sprint, diving deep into the inky blackness all around him, desperate to get out of sight once and for all, back into the shadows, and he did not look back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some disclaimers for this chapter: I borrowed some names from the x-men universe to use in my own story as you may have already noticed, but it was usually for convenience's sake than anything else. They're there to fill a gap rather than represent what they do in canon. Erik's help, for example, are really there for the sake of period-accuracy than anything else because him living alone in a manor that size even in his circumstances would be extremely strange and perhaps impossible due to the upkeep necessary.
> 
> The Brotherhood here, as well, is not at all what it is normally. I just took the name, meaning its members are what I made them, not what they usually are. Related apologies if I managed to butcher either Ororo or Logan's characters. I tried not to, but we'll see.
> 
> As for Logan, he's.....strangely based more on his cartoon counterpart than the movie-verse which is weird but it's what I had in my head at the time so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ You'll also have to excuse his non-period-compliant language. Just the thought of trying to force that on him felt ridiculous so I figured I'd let it be and it would be better for everyone.
> 
> Last note: if it's unclear the Brotherhood here is basically a werewolf.....co-op for lack of a better term ajkfd;aj

Things did not return to normalcy after Charles’s departure, far from it. Erik thought they must for there was nothing else to be done, yet the atmosphere of the castle remained uneasy. The halls were quiet and the rooms were cold and the garden was empty save for the small armada of summer-blooming flowers waving peacefully in the wind. Erik thought he might take comfort in them if nothing else if only they were not one of the things he most avoided.

Shock reigned over him for a half-day or so at first before his mind began to work something like properly once more, producing endless, small realizations, drawing from memories which he had never noticed before. It was relentless and Erik did not much appreciate its work.

What bothered him most was how much had been revealed to him, dangling in front of his nose, and how he still hadn’t noticed or even suspected. He supposed it was in part because of the terrible, fantastical nature of it all, but that was an excuse more than anything else.

He had heard stories of vampires before, of course. It was a common tale, one his mother had gifted him now and again, intermingled with talk of faerie lands and trolls under bridges and shadows on the moon, not too often as it was wont to frighten him. There had been some comfort in these stories for Erik, knowing that he was not the oddest thing in the world. Still, he had never been able to ascertain from his mother how true they were. It seemed to him something that parents might tell their children to ignite their imagination more than anything else.

There was hearsay now and again, but death was not so uncommon as to necessitate supernatural intervention. Many creatures bit to kill and it was more trouble than it was worth to sound mad, claiming it to be anything other than a feral dog. Whispers then were the sole residence of such words, and Erik had never deigned to believe them.

Even if he had it was not what he had expected in the least, but nothing from stories ever was.

Erik’s attempts to throw himself into his work were precisely as futile as they had been when Charles had previously occupied his mind. He couldn’t think with the way it refused to settle nor with the mark on his neck aching as it healed nor with the blatant emptiness of his study.

He had never seen Charles eat. In fact, he had denied an invitation to eat with Erik entirely so that he might avoid the question. The coolness of his skin now was more than a strange trait. The way he had yanked back his wrists when Erik clasped them, so that he might not feel at the pulse point and discover nothing there. His reaction to Erik bleeding against the door—not fear, Erik understood, not at all. The ask for leave, he feared, was connected.

Nonetheless there were pieces that did not fit which were perhaps more frustrating. Charles was out in the sunlight every day working and it had not seemed to bother him which was by far the most baffling of the inconsistencies. He had come to Erik’s door with wine and seemingly the intention of drinking with him if he so desired it, but would it not have harmed him? He breathed steadily as any living creature, though that could be pantomime, as well as the sleeping.

Erik did not understand it fully, but there was no denying the impossible truth. Charles’s teeth in his neck had been enough, as well as his own admission. It was possible that some portions of the stories were false, admittedly.

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes, wishing he _could_ forget all of it, but it was seared into his mind. How could he possibly forget?

For all his thinking and connecting, Erik knew little of how to feel. He knew he should feel anger at having been so easily fooled and relief at having defended those under his protection, and nothing else, and yet it was hardly so simple.

The images that flashed in his mind varied from day to day, but more often than not it was the bleary memory of Charles hovering over him, sobbing, scarlet staining his lips and his chin, clutching at him as he came back to consciousness. Another puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Charles had voiced it that night and Erik had avoided it. It was too baffling to make sense of in the moment, and it was proving to be the same now.

Charles’s eyes had held many things that night but never once had he looked thwarted or like a man whose plans had been ripped from him. He was sorrowful and guilty and furious and resigned, but not frustrated. That grated on Erik like nothing else, scraped up along his insides. Charles had been himself to the very last, never giving an inch, never letting down his disguise aside from admitting his true state. Either he was a more excellent actor than Erik had assumed or—

The second option did not bear thinking of, however. It was foolish and naïve to do so and Erik hated constantly find his way back to it, lost as he was in his head with nothing save that for a signpost.

There was no answer to be found, this he knew. He knew also that chasing ghosts was a fool’s errand, though it was difficult to keep from it when he felt so entirely haunted. No room of the castle was safe as in most some memory could be drawn to mind if not several, phantom impressions of him all around. His study was all but unbearable because of it.

There was nothing to be done for it but move on. Life was riddled with moments that could expand in one’s mind and take it over entirely if one was not careful. Time passed and Erik must follow.

A week passed, and then another week after it, trailing one another. Erik succeeded in appearing more productive. He worked, he spoke to the servants, checked in on their tasks, and he kept away from the garden at all costs, requesting that Mr. Summers handle its care henceforth.

The wound on his neck healed slowly but surely, showing the passage of time in its own way. Erik had long since grown apathetic over obtaining scars, but he felt the process more acutely this time around. He had wondered if it would heal at all, or if it would stay blatant and telling like the mirror mark on Charles’s neck, obvious now that he knew it for what it was.

However, it healed rather quickly, closing up and fading out, and Erik felt no different than he normally did. The bite had no lasting effect which he found odd but endeavored to think little of.

Summer settled in to stay, turning the air muggy and suffocating. To stay inside was somewhat agonizing and the sun shined down ceaselessly each day as if it meant to stay in the sky forever and allow nothing to cut short its reign. Fortunately, night did come just as certainly, offering some amount of relief, although Erik could not find much comfort in the event, for it was at night when his guard fell and he thought most of things he should not.

The youngest maid, Raven, inquired after Charles early on, asking where he had gone and it took Erik far too long to conjure some response.

“He found another situation,” Erik told her, “which you are always welcome to pursue as well.” He doubted she would, not having come from much and having settled in well there amongst the others. They functioned in many ways as a make-shift family, self-sustaining, needing no contribution from him which he believed was for the best.

The girl ducked her head in a nod. “Thank you, Mr. Lehnsherr, but I’m content here.” He thought she would go, but she continued, more likely than the others to speak with him for extended periods of time. Always polite but often more curious and talkative than her position required. Erik did not begrudge her it, particularly now. “I will miss him. He was quite funny and kind and it was nice to see a new face about.”

Erik wished he did not agree with her, wished guilt was not coalescing in his stomach as a result. “I’m glad to hear you got along well, but we all must move on sometime.”

Raven bit back a petulant frown. It was a refreshing expression, made Erik feel a bit better to see some the feelings he had pressed down within himself set free before his eyes. The girl nodded and was soon on her way.

No, not much improved with time, not much at all. Erik found solace in the fact that he would soon be granted some hint of distraction, although it was one he did not always look forward to so readily. This year he thought he should take what he was given and be glad.

Approximately a week before the next change they arrived, a knock echoing through the halls in the late afternoon. Erik had been expecting the sound but still managed to be caught off-guard by it. For a second he entertained a particularly ill-advised train of thought mostly consisting of sitting perfectly still at his desk and pretending to not have heard before righting himself and setting off to answer the rare call.

“Good afternoon, Erik,” said Ororo, her eyes the same familiar mix of solemn and approachable as when he had last seen her almost a year ago. “It’s good to see you as always.”

“Good afternoon,” he replied, looking behind to see that she had a companion. “To you as well, Logan.”

The other man grunted, staying some feet away from the door, not sparing him much of a glance. That too was familiar even if it was not so pleasant.

“Come in from the heat,” Erik suggested, gesturing the visitors inside, eager to move on from the doorway. They complied and he led them directly to his study as always.

Erik knew better than to offer them something to drink or eat. These visits were strictly business-related and rarely lasted long enough for pleasantries. Ororo in particular was not one to waste time with small-talk, something Erik had always appreciated (though now he could admit that some extended company might do him well).

“How goes your research?” Ororo inquired.

“Well enough. It’s slow progress to gather other wolves’ accounts of their lives but with the help of the Brotherhood it’s far from impossible.”

Ororo nodded. “I am always eager to learn of what you’ve managed to dig up and pleased when a new member writes us after having first heard from you.”

Erik nodded, though he knew this was about more than his role as liaison, as it always was. There was a brief silence as the three of them settled into the space. Erik leaned up against his desk, not quite willing to sit down, and observed one of Logan’s more impressive abilities which consisted of producing a cigar seemingly out of nowhere and lighting it within seconds. The other man stood near the back of the room, not paying much attention to the proceedings. Ororo remained as she was in front of him, never one for fidgeting. The silver of her hair glittered in the rays of sun that had managed to get through the window.

Erik felt strange having others in the study, now more than ever. They felt intensely out of place in the room, as though someone had ordered furniture without telling him and placed it there.

“How are things with the recruits?” asked Erik in an attempt to distract himself from the feeling, not always so willing to betray interest to someone so perceptive, although he supposed once a while couldn’t hurt.

Ororo blinked, surprised he had asked no doubt. “Well enough. There have been many younger pups this year which has made things rather hectic. There’s quite a difference between taking in a friend who merely desires boarding and community rather than one who must be taught entirely what they are.”

Logan scoffed from the corner. “’specially when they really don’t want to know.”

Erik nodded. “If that’s the case perhaps you should discourage the others from running off and enjoying themselves a bit too much in the nearby taverns.”

The quip earned him a chuckle from Logan who was slowly filling the room with curls of grey smoke and an admonishing stare from Ororo. She didn’t indulge his comment beyond that which Erik supposed was just as well.

“They are improving,” Ororo informed him. “Most of them take well to the instruction although not all them choose to stay after they are sufficiently well-versed in how to handle themselves, though I suppose you are no stranger to that choice.”

Always quick to the point. Erik knew that was why the Brotherhood sent Ororo in the first place. She was rather good at her job, always had been. “Better for them to leave afterward than to never have the instruction in the first place,” said Erik, unwilling to take such obvious bait.

Ororo nodded in a placating fashion, then moved forward once more. “You know why we’re here, of course. There is little use in me spelling it out so explicitly.”

Erik nodded. “I often wonder if one year my answer might at last sink in and I will go a summer without the privilege of your company.”

It had been a half-serious comment at most, but it was not taken that way.

“Hey, bub,” Logan growled, turning over toward Erik for the first time, always the first to jump into brewing conflict, particularly if Erik was involved. They had never exactly gotten along even at the best of times and more tolerated each other’s presence if necessary than anything else. “It ain’t like we _like_ wasting a whole day riding out to the middle of nowhere for you of all people. Some of us have actual work we could be doing right now.”

“Logan,” Ororo scolded him quietly, effectively cutting off what was sure to grow into a veritable storm of complaints and increasingly personalized insults.

Erik worked hard at not commenting on Logan’s strange accent. He knew not where he came from—nor did anyone else as far as he knew—but wherever it was, it was a peculiar place indeed. Still, Erik resisted, almost too tired to start up such a petty argument even after having technically sparked it himself. It was an odd thing to realize as baiting Logan was ordinarily an amusing sort of task, remarkably easy to do and rather fun to observe.

“What?” Logan demanded, not willing to fizzle out so quickly, waving his cigar emphatically at Ororo who was looking on with an ever-impressive amount of patience that spoke to her dealing with such occurrences often. “I’m agreein’ with him. We _shouldn’t_ drag our asses all the way out here every year just to be turned down by this high-and-mighty—”

“Logan,” Ororo repeated, steel gleaming through her voice this time, more obvious and more forceful. “We all know your feelings on the matter, however, Erik is a member of the Brotherhood just as much as we are and he does great work for us. It’s only fair to extend offers to members who have strayed to return if they choose.”

It was amusing to watch Logan be reprimanded, something of a novelty and a distraction which Erik could not help but appreciate. He doubted the other man would take it from anyone else, but Ororo’s voice held no hidden satisfaction; there was no pride in her words. They were as calm and logical as ever, and as that left Logan with no kindling left to burn he returned to gnawing irritably on his cigar and glaring at a bookshelf.

Of course Erik noted her diction when referring to himself—“strayed” as it were. It was purposeful as the rest of the statement and he did not overlook it.

The mood of the room resettled somewhat, although there was some incongruity which Erik felt rubbing up against him same as the overbearing afternoon sun peering in through the top edge of the window behind his desk. It felt as though his life had been split into two parts as of late: before and after Charles. This run-around was familiar but so thoroughly existing in the former that to have it intrude into the latter seemed wrong somehow.

Truthfully all it accomplished was to draw his unruly attention back to the idea that there was a divide in the first place and who exactly had placed that cut and from there it was horribly easy to get back into the circular argument he always found himself in over what had happened and why it should or shouldn’t have.

“Erik…?”

Erik blinked himself back into the present where Ororo was calling him and seeming almost…concerned.

“Are you alright?” she inquired, her eyebrows pulling together. “You seem…off today. Are you sure all is well?”

Erik bit back a sigh, annoyed to be so transparent. He forced himself to smooth out his features, get this over with already. “Yes. I apologize for my distraction.”

Ororo was too perceptive for it and narrowed her eyes, searingly blue in the diffused light of the room, but was also too conscious to remark upon it too bluntly. “That is unnecessary. We will not take up more of your time. Have you at all reconsidered coming to live with the Brotherhood? We could use another competent instructor with all the pups running around and I know you would do well there. I know the castle means very much to you and it would remain in your possession. We are not asking abandonment of you.”

Pressing his lips together, Erik recalled that argument from many years ago, back when he was far more likely to get upset over something so tedious. His normal response was immediate dismissal. He had no urge to go live in a cramped manor already overflowing with others of his kind (let alone infested with children as it appeared to be as of now). He rather liked his quiet life, the freedom it gave him, and his ability to keep close watch over his mother’s home which had been passed down to him for that express purpose.

And yet…

Oddly, Erik did not feel so vehemently that day. He supposed it had something to do with how everything excruciating about this life had been amplified by Charles’s arrival and subsequent departure. The loneliness, the banality of it, the fact that he had freedom only in name and not in practice. He had never been one to change his mind once it was set, but given the circumstances, a complete change of setting sounded almost…appealing.

An older part of his mind scoffed at the thought, but the rest did not find it laughable. He hadn’t thought of it until now, had not planned the shift, but now that the opportunity was again in front of him he wondered if he might not take it. Take it and leave this place, much as he loved it, and all the ghosts which had taken up residence here behind, at least for a while, until the halls were somewhat less crowded once more.

Ororo seemed to sense his indecision, her expression shifting slightly. “ _Have_ you reconsidered?” she asked, sounding incredulous, something he had yet to hear from her.

Erik took a breath. “Perhaps.”

Logan broke the silence with a minor coughing fit which Erik supposed was meant to be incendiary, although he did not see much point in bending to it when part of him was as surprised as his visitors.

“That is wonderful to hear,” Ororo said, a small smile gracing the austere lines of her face, her mood lifting noticeably. “I would be glad to answer any questions you have which might be holding you back still.”

Erik knew he could stop this as quickly as he had started it. It was ridiculous. He had never before actually considered going to live amongst the others, returning to the place he had visited only briefly as a child. Until today, that was. He thought perhaps he should.

Instead, he nodded. “I would be grateful if you could. You’ve travelled far and the sun is long in sky this time of year. Would you be averse to an invitation to share an early dinner here tonight before you set off once more?”

(Erik was almost surprised at his desperation for company, something that had never bothered him much before. When it had arisen he’d stubbed it out, annoyed with it more than anything else. And now look at him, practically begging for someone to spend at least dinner with him. What was said was said he supposed.)

Ororo blinked and cast a look at Logan who appeared as though he might fall over at any second in shock.

“Not at all,” Ororo replied without waiting for the other man to voice his opinion. (Erik doubted he would be too pleased but he had never known Logan to turn down a free meal or drink. Frankly it was one of the more agreeable things about him in Erik’s experience.) “Thank you very much, Erik.” A small pause and then, strangely, some hesitance. “It would bring me great pleasure to see more of the manor as well, if you would be willing to show it. It is a lovely estate.”

That gave Erik pause, although he could not fight the flattery that came from any interest in the topic. It was one of the things he was most proud of in this world. He was far from willing to let just anyone wander the halls, yet this particular case was one he thought he wouldn’t mind so much.

“If you would like.” Erik straightened, pushing up off the desk. It would help eat up some of the time between the afternoon and dinner as well which Erik thought would be well-advised.

Erik was forced to search the back corners of his mind for how exactly one was meant to handle company—proper company that was; not suspicious young men who blew in from the wastes in the midst of a thunderstorm. It had been years and the house was poorly equipped, admittedly, for such things. Still, he thought his staff could manage cooking for three. They were hard-working and adaptable people and he put his trust in them.

He first informed them that they would need to focus on preparations for the remainder of the afternoon before guiding his guests through some of the more interesting areas of the castle. Ororo was good enough company, seeming genuinely interested, to make it less strange than it could have been. Logan trailed along behind them, mostly silent and mostly irritated at his predicament. Erik informed him that he was welcome to stay in the study if he wished but he was far too stubborn for it and as such was drug along.

What sunlight managed to breach the manor trickled down the walls as they walked, indicating the day slowly passing. As they went along Erik learned more of the Brotherhood and its activities than he had for some time. His attachment to the group was more generational than anything else, tangential rather than direct. Despite his distance, he admired the majority of the work they did to help out younger wolves in particular.

It occurred to him that, one day, he might say something of the fact that other creatures of myth lurked out in the wilds of this land and that informing the pups of this might be prudent. It might be something more to research, something new to look into aside from the experience of other werewolves alone.

For now it was too soon. While he knew he should make use of the information and his experience, transform it into something utile, he could not bring himself to let go of his grasp on it quite so easily. One day, perhaps.

They reached the garden last—his own design, admittedly, for he had been ignoring it—and much nearer to dinner time and Erik hesitated at the door. The sea of green waved before him, stretching out far beyond the masts of the trees in the distance, the apple trees closer by and then the boundary of the woods. Something inside of Erik ached which he was unaccustomed to handling during the day.

“Go on ahead to the garden if you’d like,” Erik told his visitors. “I would like to check and see how the other preparations are coming along. I trust you’ll be able to find your own way.”

Ororo and Logan both looked at him oddly but went on their way soon enough. It would give them a chance to talk without him present as well which Erik thought they might desire. As for him, he fled away from the threshold, back into the safety of the room beyond and down toward the kitchen to do as he said he would.

It was not long after when all were seated for dinner. It was nothing particularly impressive, but it was a meal good as any other. Erik had called the other two in from the garden when the stage was set and they had commenced eating soon after. It was a quiet affair at first which left Erik time to wonder again at himself and at the thought of truly leaving this place for some stretch of time. Walking around it had made him quite nostalgic, yet it also reminded him of how suffocating these halls had become. New memories he cared not to relive had seeped into the walls and he knew not how to be rid of them. He suspected only time would wash them free and it would do him little good to hide in his study while he waited for such a thing to occur.

“Lehnsherr,” Logan suddenly called. “Don’t tell me you don’t have anything decent to drink around here.”

Erik replaced himself in the room and present moment. “Not much, I’m afraid, and nothing that would suit your taste.”

“Anything’s better than nothin’,” Logan declared. “Come on, I got a long ride home. Don’t you have anything to help keep me up for it?”

Erik fought back his amusement at the contradictory request. It was a strange enough day without having to find Logan tolerable as well. “I can check.” Perhaps it was weak, but a bit of drink didn’t sound like such a bad idea at the moment.

He returned with a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them and not thinking at all of the last time he’d seen it. “Better?” Erik inquired, noting how Ororo was hiding a smile behind her own glass at the exchange.

“It’ll do,” Logan huffed, downing an entire glass in one go.

The alcohol placated Logan somewhat and drew him out into the conversation which Erik could not bring himself to regret entirely even if he sorely wanted to. He complained more about the state of the Brotherhood, demanded that Erik stop sending them so many young recruits. Erik decided the wine was enough of an excuse to argue back rather than taking the higher ground for once, retorted that Logan and his team had best sniff out better leads if they wanted anything more impressive than children who could easily be found without a liaison to mediate the process, so averse were they to being clandestine. Ororo’s attempts to declare that without younger members the group would cease to grow did little to keep the argument from turning in endless circles for a good long while. Long enough for Erik to fetch another bottle in any case, particularly when it began to branch out into other related topics.

While it was slightly irritating, it was also somewhat liberating to argue over something frivolous, cast all his energy into it. Admittedly, Erik had known both Logan and Ororo since he was born. Logan was already grown into himself while Ororo had twelve some years to her name at the time and both of them had peered over him when his mother took him for occasional visits to the Brotherhood. While it was a miniature version, this dinner reminded him of the great dining room there, filled to the brim with people all talking and eating, a frenzy of energy and life. Erik had never seen so many people in his life, and that was some years ago. He knew the group had only grown since then as word spread of a place where people like them might be safe or at the very least seek out shelter and company.

Erik felt strangely light for the first time in two weeks and it was not the blurry heat of the alcohol alone accomplishing it. Still, it did not last for long and Ororo appeared disinclined to let him brood in peace.

“I must ask what caused you to change your mind,” she began, taking another sip of her own wine, a bit steadier than either he or Logan but far from falling behind their pace, “or to reconsider, rather. I have not known you to change course once you’ve set it in all your life.”

Logan laughed. “Just like your mother. Both of you stubborn as mules.”

Something very breakable inside of Erik quivered threateningly at the mention of his mother as it always did. It managed to stay intact, mostly because he was distracted by the idea that both of these people had known his mother as well. Erik preferred to keep her close to him and him alone, but something about the knowledge of her life not staying trapped only within himself and these walls was comforting.

As for Ororo’s question, Erik did not see how he could properly answer. He took another swallow of wine to gain time and settled for some sufficiently vague line. “Perhaps I’ve grown tired of living out here after all.”

Ororo tilted her head and Erik could tell she didn’t entirely believe him, but she remained silent. Logan was not so courteous.

“Can’t imagine how that happened. I always thought living in a musty old pile of stones in the middle of nowhere was the height of luxury,” he said, ignoring Erik’s glare. “Must come across a lot of weirdos out here, huh? Ain’t no one normal all the way out in these parts, that’s for sure.”

Erik was inclined to agree with him from his own experience and because he knew Logan was a wanderer himself. It surprised him to see how long he’d remained with the Brotherhood, frankly, from what he knew of the other man. He supposed he must have found something there that had convinced that it was worth excusing his restlessness and staying.

The comment made him curious however, and the wine made him reckless enough to ask. “I suppose. I expect you’ve seen many strange souls on your own travels.”

Logan nodded, poured himself another glass. “Not often you meet someone all that normal out here. I wouldn’t go trustin’ no one any kind of regular if I met them out walking. There’s some free advice for you.”

Erik wished that he did not know how correct Logan really was. “Ever come across any woodland spirits?” he asked, hoping it would be taken as facetious more than anything else.

Logan scoffed. “No such thing.”

“What of faeries?” Ororo suggested, smiling openly at the excuse to tease the other man. “Or trolls? Surely you saw something interesting. I’ve heard some of your tales.”

Logan waved a hand at both of them. “Someone’s been filling your heads with fairy tales.”

“It’s not so strange, considering what we are,” Erik pointed out, hedging closer to his purpose for asking. “It would be odder to think we were the only ones.”

“The wine’s goin’ to your head,” Logan complained. “You were always a lightweight, Lehnsherr.”

“He has a point, Logan,” Ororo continued and Erik was grateful for her unknowing support. “Some of the stories must be real.”

“None that I’ve ever seen,” Logan grumbled, growing more visibly irritated. “And if you two are gonna sit around and play fairytale I’m going to go have a smoke. I’m too old for that kiddy stuff.” He stood abruptly and stomped off toward the direction of the garden, wine bottle in hand.

Erik and Ororo watched him go in silence. Ororo sighed. “Not all of his experiences travelling have been pleasant,” she said by way of explanation. “I assume his purpose in leaving was to avoid having to recall them.”

“ _Has_ he seen something?” Erik asked, too far gone to worry if he was sounding ridiculous and willing to trust that she wouldn’t mock him for it.

Ororo smiled. “I dare say he might have.”

She swirled the red liquid around in her cup, the wine curling into the shape of a rose. “I do not mean to be rude, but I noticed the scar on your neck.”

The words jolted Erik somewhat out of his stupor and he hurried to brush it off. “Some animal, I suspect. It occurred during my last change.”

Ororo hummed. “That’s unfortunate. I hope it heals quickly and well.” Another pause. It made Erik nervous to see the clarity still in her eyes despite the alcohol, clear as a freshly run bath. “Have you had any visitors as of late, Erik? I only ask because we receive them at the manor now and again.”

Erik wondered at her perception and at the urge to speak the truth with her. Not all of it, but some part of it perhaps, to release it out into the open air and decrease some of the pressure in his chest where all of it had been stored for too long already.

“One,” Erik admitted. “Some time ago. They did not stay long.”

Ororo nodded. “I thought it smelled differently in your study, or at least it smelled of more than you alone.”

Erik clenched his teeth together, not having thought of that. Some wolves had better noses than others, he knew, particularly in their human form, and it seemed Ororo was one of the more gifted of them. Despite his having been tempting fate before, he knew this was growing dangerous far too quickly. Ororo was simply too intelligent to speak to of secrets. “Did it? I suppose scents linger in the heat and it has been warm here for many months.”

“I often wonder about you, out here all alone. Many of us do.” Erik fought back the overwhelming irritation at the thought of others looking down on him, pitying him, as though he needed their help, mostly because Ororo was still speaking. “I thought one day you might find a companion with whom to share your time. It would not be so unthinkable, seeing how many people you contact. But here you are still.”

Erik doubted it was her purpose but he loathed to be spoken to in such a patronizing fashion. That sour taste along with a shock of wariness over how close she had gotten to something like the truth so quickly put Erik on edge.

He turned to look out the window at the end of the room, the panes glowing orange in the early evening sun, spangling the harsh color throughout the room, clashing garishly with the deep blues and greens decorating the space, and attempted to gather himself. Ororo was probing, perhaps not entirely of her own will. The Brotherhood did like to keep tabs on even its most detached members, particularly ones they thought might produce more pupils in the future.

Erik should have known better than to expect allowing more time and intimacy with these visitors to result in anything else. To think he had been so desperate for any distraction, so pathetically lonely that he would allow it, squeeze himself into the role of amiable host for them.

Still he knew it would do no good to be overly defensive. There were things even Ororo could not learn from simply paying close attention. “You have no partner yourself,” Erik pointed out. “It seems strange to criticize me for the same fault.”

Ororo remained nonplussed by the comment. “It was only curiosity that bid me ask, and perhaps a way to offer further incentive to join us once more. Being amongst your own kind has benefits beyond simple solidarity.”

Erik spun back to face her, incredulous at what he was hearing. When he looked closer he saw that her cheeks were flushed and that she was smiling at him. Inwardly, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. So it _was_ merely the drink drawing her into further conversation, her composure not having told the whole tale. “I see.”

“No interest at all?” she inquired. “Come along, you might find a wife yet.”

Erik forced himself not to laugh. He did settle again somewhat. It was strange to see this side of Ororo which was not all business. “I have little interest in such matters.”

“So this guest of yours was merely an acquaintance,” Ororo asked, casual disbelief underlying her words, “who stayed in your study often enough for me to remark upon it some months later, as you say.”

Erik decided that he was quite done with this conversation and failed to respond. He would let Ororo think what she would. Intoxicated as she was currently he doubted she would put much weight in what memory of the conversation she would retain when she again came back to herself.

Instead he looked down into the garnet depths of his own glass, almost entirely empty. The wine was as a sweet summer breeze in his mind, softening what would have once been sharp and unbearable about the conversation. He reached up to press the pads of his fingers to the scar on his neck gently, rubbing over the indents there. Beyond the shock and betrayal and confusion lying over top of that night like a layer of scum on top of a pond, Erik could reach through and find heat and satisfaction and shared ecstasy, none of which had faded with time as he thought it might.

He had always thought of himself as fairly perceptive, not so easily fooled. How was it then that he had spent entire months with a blanket pulled over his head, blind to what was truly happening? Moreover, if he had made the logical, moral decision that night why did he feel no accomplishment over it? What held him back from moving on? What would shake him of all people to the point that he was seriously considering leaving this place of his, his home?

All the more frustrating was the reality that Erik knew the answers. They were simply infuriating enough to make him pretend he did not.

Erik swallowed the final drink of wine in his cup and made to stand. “You two should be on your way,” he announced, deciding all at once that he wished to be done with this. “I’ll fetch Logan.” As he went he called upon Mrs. Grey to bring Ororo some water to clear her head some for the trip.

Logan was sitting on the stoop facing the back lawn, casting circles of smoke off into the sky like a signal. He was looking deep into the woods. Erik chose not to share his gaze.

“I think it best you leave soon before you lose all the light,” Erik told him.

Logan grunted, pulling his cigar from his mouth, blowing another ring of smoke. “You’re right. How is she?”

“Fairly intoxicated as far as I can tell.”

“I figured. She don’t drink that much.”

“It’s strange to see her that way.”

That drew something like a smile from Logan even if that had not been Erik’s purpose exactly. “Yeah. Kinda nice too. She’s a person under all that straight talk.” He took a final draw from his current cigar before snuffing it out on the stone below him and standing. “Guess that means I gotta finish up here. You gonna make a decision tonight?”

Erik struggled not to shift under the scrutinizing look he found abruptly resting upon him. “Not tonight, but I am truly considering it.”

Logan sighed and rubbed at his neck. “Gotta make it difficult, huh? Here’s a deal. I think it’s what Ororo would have said too. We’ll give you a month to make up your mind. If you do it sooner, you know where we are. Couldn’t hurt to have another pair of hands around.”

Erik thought this must be Logan being civil, a very rare sight indeed. Unfortunately he was too drunk to say anything clever about it. “Very well.”

It didn’t last long. “Why were you tryin’ to weasel something out of me earlier? I never saw you so interested in me before.”

Erik stared out at the tree line where the very tops of the trees were reaching up toward the sun as if drawing it back down into the earth themselves. “What do you think of vampires?”

Logan frowned at him which Erik could see from the corner of his eye. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think they’re real?” Erik asked, not backing down yet.

The next pause was pregnant. “Maybe. Makes more sense than some little bird person with wings flying around in forests.”

“What would you do if you met one? Would you kill it?”

Erik had never seen Logan look wary before but the expression coalesced on his face now, stark in the fading light of day. “Why would I do that? I ain’t scared of putting jerks like you in their place, but I’m not going to kill something in cold blood unless I have to.”

“Don’t you think it might deserve it? If it lives it will only continue to kill others. It could hurt anyone, even the kids at the manor. Would it not be safer?”

It took Logan longer to answer, but when he did his words were firm. “It ain’t my job to go around dealing in blood debts. I’m not so high and mighty to think I know who deserves to live or die.”

“What if it had already hurt someone? Wouldn’t it be justice at that point?”

Logan reached out and punched at Erik’s arm, hard enough to hurt. “You’re not getting it, kid. I don’t know why this has got you all tied up in knots, but blood on your hands isn’t something you want to try for so I’ll give you some advice. Look at us.” He gestured between them. “Ain’t we just as dangerous? I don’t know about you but I can’t exactly control myself after I change. You think you ought to kill me since I might hurt someone like that even if it’s totally out of my control?”

Erik sighed, rubbing at his arm. “…no. But they _have_ to kill to survive—”

“But they didn’t ask to be that way, just like you didn’t ask to be the way you are. You gonna go kill all the damn bears in those woods for eatin’ up the deer? That ain’t your job. If I meet some bloodsucker and he bites someone I know, maybe then we gotta talk, but I’m not gonna start off afraid of him. There’s no logic in fear. If people go around killing other people just because of what they are this whole place would burn down in a day.”

Erik tried to parse that, though he had a feeling it would take time for the words to settle in and for him to pick through them properly. As it was at the moment all he felt was a surreal sense of relief.

“You got that, bub?” Logan demanded, peering up at him, laughably serious. “Maybe we oughta take you back as a student instead. Seems like you still got a lot to learn.”

Erik supposed he was right, but it was a task for another night. He did not think his mind could be fuller than it had been before, but now it was spilling over, wine onto the tablecloth, and he had no urge to clean up the mess at the moment. The sun was dipping down to rest for the night and Erik wanted nothing more than to join it.

“I will let you know of my answer within a month’s time,” Erik told Logan.

Logan scrutinized him for a short stretch of time, holding him in place with the dark intensity of his gaze and Erik thought he might say something more. Ultimately he did not, releasing him and grunting his approval, heading back inside.

Erik saw the two of them off soon after, turning them loose into the steadily encroaching night. He wondered if he might feel a similar sense of loss as the last time he had watched someone pass through his threshold, but he did not.

**

Weeks passed with the steadily increasing pace of any amount of time after a particular event. The moon turned in its familiar gradient, twisting to reveal a new shape each night until it was full up again and Erik was made to deal with it. So caught up was he in his own mind that he hardly worried about it, and the change came and went without much trouble.

It did make him think, but most everything made him think those days.

Erik saw time pass not in hours or days but in an array of colors. The former were too immaterial for him and while he knew they must be going by, he could not feel it occurring. Such was the way of summer where everything sat still in the muggy air and it seemed as though there would be no end to it. Erik was in no mood to tolerate such stagnancy, therefore looking for something tangible was necessary.

Orange and yellow in the morning, breaking so early over the horizon and seeping into his room. It was an excuse to get out of bed and start moving, light enough to see himself write. Green in the dining room made darker by the mahogany of the table, chased back by blinds yanked open. Erik had little tolerance for the castle’s sympathy for shadows as of late.

Endless cream pouring out over his desk, flavored with ink, only rarely mixing. Myriad browns and reds and blues of his bookshelves, blurring into one color with no name when Erik spent too long staring into them as if a volume he’d never remarked upon before might fly out and open up to reveal all the answers asked by his never-silent mind. Bright blue of the sky, clear and boundless, muddled often with grey like smoke from Logan’s cigars. One or the other, nothing else. Erik wondered that it did not rain now and again, but the weather seemed unwilling to be so changeful.

Gold streaks on his floor as the day passed by, igniting when it drew to a close into sunset brilliance. Erik used to appreciate it more, but the colors now were violent more often than not, purple bruising, bloody red, and only black silence below. Night brought an end to it all and an end to Erik’s days as well, crimson retreat back to his quarters.

The colors he saw then came from his own mind and he did not have nearly as much control over them. The blue of his study, pale skin on his couch, faded primrose masking a secret. The green of the garden and a spectrum of life growing steadily on, pleased with the season and the care being given to it. Sapphire pools turned his way, changeful in their state but always beautiful. Sunsets in his hearth back when he still enjoyed them, crackling and alive, illuminating and endlessly present. Grey and blue and brown strewn across his floor, careless streaks of fabric. Velvet midnight out on the lawn, preceded by anticipation for the sun to set and the day to leave, as though waiting to be rid of a jailer making his patrol. Red on white, roses in winter, staining lips that curled around words he had never heard before.

These and more Erik saw, all of them strewn together onto the canvas of his days, past and present together at once, abstract enough to be manageable. Erik thought perhaps if he stared long enough at it he might draw some meaning out of the chaos, some moral about forgiveness or justice or dishonesty, but he had little luck with it. They would not give up answers or meaning so willingly which Erik supposed was often the case with paintings. They existed as they were and viewers projected their own meaning upon them as they would.

When he grew tired of that, he sometimes could bring himself to think more concretely about concepts like the future or obligations or the night Ororo and Logan had come to visit. Logan’s words were often in his mind whether or not he agreed with all of them—which he didn’t—which was irritating. He too had not given Erik the answer he wanted because he had not been asking the right questions for it in the first place.

He knew them, he thought, at least in part and at night his heart whispered answers to him which he rarely liked the sound of.

That was as it was now. Erik stared up at the ceiling and willed it to quiet it down with little success. He always fought it for some time and never won and he was growing weary of the pattern. Erik marked the days by colors in order to cloak the true way he felt them pass by: two stages, not hardly as separate as they appeared, same as it had been since Charles left.

In the day he moved on. He did his work, wrote letters, read books and accounts, spoke to the staff, and ran the castle as he always had, unaffected.

In the night he missed him.

Erik despised the fact that he could barely detach the two, let alone get rid of the latter, chase it out from himself. He had tried but the feeling was planted deep within himself, far out of his reach. It had taken root several moons ago and, moreover, he worried that to remove it would be to leave nothing left of himself in the bloody aftermath.

Restlessness made his bones ache and part of Erik grew more certain that he must accept the Brotherhood’s offer once and for all each day. Nonetheless his attachment to the house was great, so to leave it early would be unthinkable. Despite all that it held Erik could not bring himself to dislike it. That left him with time then, perhaps too much, some weeks yet to perhaps make some use of himself and sort things in his cluttered mind.

In the present moment, Erik sat up and swung his legs off the bed, knowing well enough that he would not be able to sleep for some hours yet if at all. Instead he dressed and obeyed the call within him, moving, walking the halls of the castle aimlessly. It was still rather bright out, only some days off the full moon. It was an uneasy sight for Erik as sometimes it brought relief if the ordeal was over and sometimes it brought wariness for what was soon to come.

Erik knew this place far too well to be concerned with walking about in the dark. It was as reading a familiar passage: hardly any need for how well you knew it, but comforting still in its familiarity. For all he had learned, as well, he still had no belief in spirits. Once someone was dead they were gone for good, that much he knew for certain.

That earnest knowledge only exacerbated his guilt over having threatened such an infinite fate upon someone he had cared about.

Had?

Erik’s treacherous feet had brought him to the door that led out to the garden. It was not at all an uncommon occurrence. His feelings of enmity toward the place had peeled back to reveal a desperate attraction not unlike stories of the temptation of entering a faerie circle. That comparison in mind, it made him wonder if he did allow himself to enter if he would ever come out again.

That night, however, he thought he could bear it no longer. What Logan had said of fear was turning in his mind, and he was tired of acting as though he were banned from a part of his own home. Not venturing outside was not doing him any good and he wanted to know how things were growing. He owed Charles that much.

And so he braced himself and stepped out in the sweet, cool night air. It looked as he remembered it. Mr. Summers appeared to be taking good enough care of it. Erik circled the perimeter for the most part, doting on the plants there, strangely washed out in the moonlight. Many of the flowers were on their last leg of life, finishing up their bloom. Autumn would arrive sooner than later; the plants knew it best.

The leaves on the trees appeared almost blue in the light, Erik thought, blending into the sky behind them. The apple trees had long since lost their blossoms, and were beginning to prepare, he hoped, to produce fruit in the fall. He knew not if they would manage it, but it would make him hopeful if they did. He knew it was only his imagination that they did not look quite as healthy as they had some weeks ago, but he made a note to tend to them more carefully even so.

Erik rounded the perimeter, came back toward the house, passing by where the old rose bush had once been and was now uprooted. He knew he should keep walking, keep up his façade for his own sake, but he couldn’t help stopping and remarking on what had been planted there anew. He had, for one reason or another, never taken the time before to more carefully observe it and truthfully, he wanted to know what Charles had chosen of his own will.

He kneeled to observe the plant. It was flowering, long white trumpets, crinkled like worn paper around the outside of the petals, twisting in a spiral. Its leaves were large and blueish like the trees’ although he assumed that to be their natural color. It was a lovely little thing and appeared to be flourishing well enough. Erik thought he’d seen some blooms like these somewhere nearby where the flowers grew more wild.

Jimsonweed, he recalled vaguely, the word swimming up from years past when his mother took him about the garden and nearby fields, and taught him the names of the plants. He had not been particularly interested at the time, far more eager to play in the mud and attempt to climb the apple trees, much to his mother’s exasperation. He strained to remember more and slowly snippets came back to him like the slow settling of disrupted water back into still clarity.

Not much interesting at first, but then suddenly something. _Moonflower_ , he thought. Named because they open only in the night.

Erik almost laughed. It seemed Charles was clever even in his absence and Erik was yet more oblivious than he had previously assumed. Erik wondered at how he’d managed to choose something that would mean something to both of them, both of their lives directed so entirely by the coming and going of the nighttime.

It also made him wonder if Charles knew more than he had said.

The idea was chilling, one of the few things Erik did truly fear in this world, but strangely he could not find it in himself to be too worried over it. One secret for another, he supposed. He doubted somehow that Charles would do anything with the information if he did know it.

And that was the truth. He didn’t know exactly what had occurred that stormy night, but he had doubted his accusations the moment they appeared in his mind. In the moment he had grasped onto them for the sake of keeping things simple. It was far easier to pretend Charles was an intelligent monster, evil by design despite endless evidence to the contrary than anything else. It made it easier for Erik to do what he had, or perhaps possible at all.

But Charles was not a monster. Erik could not bring himself to believe it, no matter how desperately he’d tried. He was many things—kind, stubborn, infuriating, intoxicating—but evil was not one and he had not deserved what Erik did to him, what he had said.

Guilt expanded inside of Erik until he thought he must burst with it. He did not, staying intact but aching horribly down to his inwardmost self. He reached out to cradle one of the blooms in his hands, touch the soft delicate petal of it and he knew he could bear this no longer.

There was no logic to his next action, only desperation to mend what he had broken. He thought first of going as he was, and soon decided there would be no point. He had no notion at all of where Charles might be, how far he had wandered. Most likely it was quite far indeed if he had heeded Erik’s words. Moreover, approaching directly would be naïve. Charles was likely to see him coming and he would be unlikely to want to see him again of all people.

No, it would be better to first get some bearings on the other man and go from there, better to go not as himself or rather not as the self that would be recognizable to Charles. It would be difficult but as a wolf he would have a much easier time catching his scent.

Erik had changed of his own volition only a handful of times in his life. Most were when he was very young and was not able to control it. Sometimes it occurred during periods of intense emotional distress which consisted of nearly every high or low in a child’s mind. It could be done, but it was painful to do and entirely unnecessary.

Still, Erik knew how to trigger it and he was largely apathetic to the pain. He must do this now, find him, know he was okay, alive as much as he ever was, safe.

Erik brought to mind Charles’s scent, still fresh in his memory. He didn’t have an enormous amount of control as a wolf, but forcing the change tended to aid with that particular issue. There was more intent to it, somewhat more control. He hoped that would be enough.

He undressed as he usually did for the sake of not destroying his clothes, placing them out of sight and trusting in the garden’s shadows and the late hours to protect him from any stray eyes. This had long ago become routine in any case and he highly doubted any of his help would question what he was doing even if they did happen to see their master stripping out of his clothes out in the garden in the middle of the night.

Erik took a deep breath, then, gathered his intent, and changed.

He could never properly describe it, so strange was the concept of turning one thing into another and having it remain intact. It was a twisting of his very being, the bending and straightening of bones, the reallocation of muscle and fat, parts of him that were not there before suddenly part of himself once more. It was not so violent as a break, never had been, but there was an incredible discomfort to it that he imagined came from knowing something was wrong or illogical and being made to experience it anyway, taking reality and perverting it. It was best not think of it too much lest he make himself sick.

He knew from experience that it was rather horrific to watch, but it took no more than a minute to accomplish in its entirety. Once changed, Erik’s mind shrunk back, contained somewhat, and he readjusted to this form. For once he knew he must trust that he and it were one and the same.

**

He straightened and shook out his coat, displeased with how it was matted in some places.

He sniffed the night air and cocked his ears, adjusting to his surroundings, seeking out potential dangers but found nothing. He huffed and looked around, catching sight of the trees and heading that way, wary of the open space. Once started he broke out into a run, eager to stretch to his legs.

He bounded into the trees eagerly, putting his nose to the ground and sniffing. These woods were unfamiliar to him. He paused, taking a moment to tilt his head back and let out a howl. It echoed off into the night. He sat for a moment, ears cocked, waiting for a reply, but none came.

He was alone then. He considered marking one of the trees briefly when something else came to mind. He was not sure why but there was a scent in the forefront of his thoughts. He must have smelled it somewhere before. He felt the urge more than anything else to go to it, to seek it out.

He did not question it, moving instead to get on with his task, interest in the new place momentarily lost. He scented the air carefully. There were many smells in the woods, but he ignored them. What he sought was fairly close, so he set on his way to find it.

He thought there might be a companion in these woods after all, though he did not understand why they hadn’t replied to his call. Still his mind hardly rested long on the thought, if at all. He was more interested in tracking the familiar smell and running through the night and how wonderful it felt to be free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm rambling in notes this chapter, I'd like to thank everyone for their very kind comments on this story. It means a lot to me and they make me so happy to read! Thank you for reading along and I hope you enjoy the final portion of this tale.


	10. Chapter 10

Charles had caught a bird. He wasn’t particularly pleased about it, but he was more than sick of the fish he had been catching and he knew better than to think he could live off such oily, thin blood in the first place. Still, he hated to do it.

It was better than a rabbit, however, and a rabbit was better than a deer. There was some hierarchy to it, leveled evenly with how desperate he was at the time. At the moment he was not particularly concerned, seeing how he had been wandering around through a fairly concealed patch of woods for some time. He reminded himself as well that all of this was the alternative to something much worse, and some of his regret faded away accordingly.

It was over quickly, not much to be gained from the small, boney creature. Enough, but not much. He knelt down to bury it in the ground near the roots of a tree, hoping it might provide nourishment to something other than himself as well, that its death would not go to waste.

Charles sighed, straightening back up and glancing around. It had been several weeks since he had departed from the castle and he should now be far from it and from Erik. Truthfully he could have crossed the distance separating them currently in a day or two, but he had not. He had wandered some but mostly in circles instead, backtracking and staying long enough in one area that the wildlife learned of his presence and moved on without him, a strange new predator in their home.

He had not at all heeded Erik’s warning, although he knew it was incredibly dangerous. He simply couldn’t bring himself to leave so soon. Time was very strange indeed for Charles and a month was nothing when he considered what was yet to come. It was hardly enough time for him to move on even if it meant risking his life to do it, or whatever he now possessed instead.

He thought he should be angry or afraid and sometimes he was, but more often he was something else entirely. Heart-broken, he supposed. That was what this was. Heart-break in its simplest form. It was an illness, he thought, that made it so he could only go so far. Too much distance would surely kill him, for he had left half of his heart and half of himself with Erik. Until he could bid it back to him, he could not move on in any sense of the phrase.

So he stayed and he circled and he waited for that to occur. There was no one out the in woods beyond the animals to protest his presence, and so, unless Erik came looking for him which Charles doubted highly would happen, he was safe enough. Even if he did come looking Charles was faster than him if he wanted to be. He could run.

But he would not come after him. Charles felt sure of it. For all that he was speaking so harshly that night there was wavering in his voice. They were words he felt he was supposed to say, Charles thought, not necessarily ones he believed in wholly.

Or perhaps he did. Charles wondered often if he was deluding himself. Perhaps it was just stubborn, misplaced hope clouding his mind and causing him to see what he wanted rather than what was in front of his eyes.

Erik had been wrong about his intentions and wrong about his feelings, but there could be no avoiding what he was. Erik’s fear was justified, as was his sending Charles off. It was what he’d always expected to occur after all, albeit in a more peaceful, natural way. That expectation had grown from previous experience and he knew it to be the safest way of carrying on. To stay for any extended period of time would be to put all those around him in danger, therefore he must take what he was given gratefully and then depart soon after.

To stay and betray not only Erik’s wishes but that principle was done purely out of selfishness, as Charles staying so long in the first place had been. It was clear that he had not learned his lesson at all. First forcing himself upon Erik until he gave in, then continuing to push for more, not knowing even his own limits and hurting Erik in the process, and now this.

Charles sighed, picking his way through the underbrush back toward the river. It was far more bearable at night, not so entirely occupied by insects hovering around, fat and lazy in the air, and the river itself had beauty to it, a slice through the countryside, clean and slick, some relief from the endless green and trees all around.

He had hoped his anger might drive him away, but he was little motivated by pride or by feelings of resentment. They faded within days, particularly when he could see why Erik might believe what he did. It was more hurtful to be thought so little of only because it was Erik judging his character than whether the assessment was correct or not. When the anger rushed out, it left him feeling hollow, empty as a dead tree, gutted over time. Losing something one cared very deeply about was never easy or logical or quick to fix.

Of all he had lost, Charles missed sleeping the most and it would have done him much good these past weeks, he was certain. Humans took it entirely for granted. To not be able to lay down and set his troubles aside, surrender to unconsciousness for even a moment was a curse, and he resented it now particularly. What he would give to close his eyes and forget for a moment, to not have to feel or remember or be as he was.

Charles continued to walk and think, pressing through the now-familiar woods, on toward the river. It felt as though he had been walking and thinking for a millennia. He thought he must find some abandoned place to stay and claim as his own one of these days so he would not be resigned to such a fate for the rest of his theoretically immortal life.

He drew to a pause when a howl rang out in the night. It was a bittersweet noise, almost somber and it was unexpected. Charles had not seen wolves yet in these woods. It didn't seem the right environment for them. Still, if they had been intelligent enough to avoid him as many animals were, him not seeing them meant almost nothing. He listened for responding howls but there was only silence and echo. He was tempted to howl back but he knew better. He was in no position to be impulsive.

Charles continued on. The idea of wolves did little to frighten him. In fact, all it did was make him think of Erik which was not at all uncommon. Charles believed his mind could transform even the most banal of items into a complicated web of associations and memories all centering around the other man. It would have been impressive if it was not so exhausting and predictable. This reference was more direct, of course, not that it made much difference in the overall effect it had upon him.

When he arrived at the river he knelt down to rinse his hands free from grime, allowing the dark water to wash it away out of sight. It was a lovely night out, Charles noticed, clear and calm, a true midsummer’s night eve if he’d ever seen one. The thought lifted his mood somewhat and he paused to rest by the water longer than he might have otherwise.

He wondered at how bright it was from the light of the moon and yet how little he could see into the river. Instead it acted as a mirror, transferring the stars above down in front of him. The illusion was shattered off and on by the movement of the water, but it did little to lessen the overall effect. Charles breathed in the cool air and looked down at his hands, clean now, sins washed away down the river, masked by its stolen beauty. Even so he could still feel the stain on them as he often could.

Charles supposed, considering his continued presence exactly where he should not have been, there was something to all those adages concerning love and its ability to mask logical thought. That was the singular explanation for it which he had reached and it was hardly a satisfying one.

Slowly Charles got to his feet, shaking the water free from his hands. He thought he might follow it when he did managed to move on, see where it took him. For now, however, he left it be and slipped back into the cover of the trees.

There was no real need for it, but he thought he might rest for some time and so found a reasonable spot for it, settling into the underbrush and listening to the night.

When he did, he realized that something was coming toward him. Wariness rose in his chest automatically although there was no basis for it. Creatures no matter how large tended to avoid him once they realized what he was. It didn’t sound human so there was no need for him to concern himself with it. Instead he sat still and waited, wondering if it might be deer. He rather liked to watch them, so graceful were they, though they rarely came close enough for him to see.

Charles was thoroughly mistaken in his guess as it turned out. Whatever was approaching was too large and it moved like a predator, slowing as it came closer, most likely sniffing Charles out, noticing he was there. A bear?

That guess remained with him longer as the creature first moved into his sight. Nervousness was still hovering about even after he had banished it, too ingrained for him to be rid of it completely. The animal was large, pushing aside the underbrush with ease. It didn’t move with much aggression, appearing more curious than anything, lingering in the shadows.

“It’s alright,” Charles called to it on a whim. “I won’t hurt you.”

Remarkably, that drew the beast out.

Not a bear, Charles thought immediately, his eyebrows drawing together.

_A…wolf?_ Charles supposed that was what it had to be, although it was a good deal larger than he had supposed wolves to be. This creature must come up past his waist if he were to stand next to it, certainly. Still, it was not as though he had been so close to one before. Maybe he had misunderstood their size.

Either way, it was a great, regal thing. Its ears were perked up toward him and he could see its nostrils flaring, scenting. It was a lovely auburn color, particularly around its haunches, like autumn leaves. It huffed at him but did not seem otherwise bothered by his presence. Charles was far too taken by its appearance to do much more than stare. Between how handsome it was and the way it had slipped free so silently from the shadows of the trees, Charles wondered if it was not some sort of nature spirit.

Stranger yet, it approached him. It was still not hostile in its movements but the surprise was enough to cause Charles to startle back somewhat, replacing the distance between them. The wolf stopped when he did and whined.

Charles frowned, beyond confused. He knew not what to make of this creature. It appeared to want something, although he didn’t know what he could possibly have to give. As long as it did not mean to hurt him however, he thought he must let it go about its business. It was exceedingly rare that a living creature approached him and Charles couldn’t help but wonder at what it would do.

So when the wolf moved forward once more Charles stayed still and allowed it to approach. It towered over him, sitting as he was, and came to a stop mere inches in front of his face. Charles felt rooted to his spot, unsure what else to do but hold still, wary of scaring it off by moving. A short pause later and the wolf continued.

It leaned into Charles entirely, pressing its snout into his neck. Charles held as still as he possibly could, wondering if it meant to attack after all. He felt oddly calm about it—shock most likely. However, after a few moments of nothing happening Charles realized it was sniffing at him, its wet nose pressing up against his skin. He shrank back from it, not expecting the sensation, and it followed after him in a motion he could only describe as a nuzzle. It brushed up against him, its fur rougher than he might have thought.

Charles officially did not have the slightest notion of what was happening. The wolf pulled back and chuffed at him, blowing air out through its nose and keeping its ears perked. It was even wagging its tail. Charles could have sworn it looked pleased with itself.

Slowly, unsure what else to do, Charles held a hand out to it. It shifted uneasily for moment, seeming as if it might back away after all. Ultimately it remained where it was and nosed at Charles’s hand. Charles let out a burst of laughter unable to help himself, reaching up between its ears to touch. The wolf tolerated the movement although it shook somewhat afterward as if it had just gotten out of water.

Charles thought he liked this wolf very much but he still didn’t have the foggiest idea what it was doing standing in front of him. “What do you want?” he asked it.

It did not respond, obviously, being a wolf, but it did continue to stare at him. It had an intense gaze for an animal, though perhaps that was not unusual for a predator. Its eyes stood out in the dark and amongst the taupe shade of much of its fur, an eerie light blue. It was unsettling somehow and almost familiar.

It occurred to Charles what might be happening all at once. Shock bloomed within him, more powerful than before.

“…Erik?”

The wolf huffed at him again and sat down, settling in front of him as if it didn’t plan to move for some time.

Charles thought he might collapse or do something else drastic. He spun wildly to catch a glimpse of the moon. He had not thought it was full but he could have been mistaken.

It was not, although he didn’t know for sure how it might work. The stories could be wrong.

Or he could be delusional and talking to a very large dog.

“Can you understand me?” he asked, willing to look foolish for the sake of knowing for certain.

The wolf blinked at him but gave no other answer.

That was not exactly encouraging. Charles persisted nonetheless. “If you are Erik and you can understand me even a little, you must give me some sign. If you are, would you lie down?”

Charles felt mad, speaking to this animal, but there was something about its eyes that made him struggle to believe there was any other explanation. He couldn’t dream, and so this must be real.

The wolf hesitated once more, staying as it was, shifting restlessly and Charles felt his heart sink somewhat. It would not make much sense anyway that Erik would come after him, he insisted to himself.

Charles did not have to discourage himself long, however, as a few long, patient moments later the wolf laid down. It was a stiff movement, not hardly as natural as when it had sat down, as if it were obeying an order. It only stayed down for a moment before it was getting back up again, making some sound between a bark and a growl in his direction as if in protest of being made to listen to him. Brief as it was, the noise was deep and powerful and it reverberated in his chest.

Charles pressed his face into his hands, entirely incredulous. “It cannot be…” he muttered to himself. He could hardly tell what he was feeling, only that it was overwhelming, a million emotions bursting forth from his chest all at once.

The wolf—Erik—pressed his large face into his neck again, still sniffing at him and rubbing himself up against him. Charles reached out to wrap his arms around his neck, unsure what else to do and desperate for something to hold onto. He dug his fingers into the animal’s thick coat, finding that below the coarse top layer there was softer fur, downy to the touch almost, and held Erik close for several relieving seconds until he seemed to become irritated at the position and broke free of Charles’s grip.

Even as he put space between them, he didn’t leave, remaining near to Charles as if he had no intention of doing so and Charles could not have been more grateful. He swiped at his eyes and swallowed hard around the reality of this reunion, odd as it was. He didn’t know if Erik had meant to come to him or if this self had simply tracked him down as a familiar scent. He didn’t know if he meant to leave at one point or another. All he knew was that Erik was there, back within reach, even if he was in a different form entirely than the one Charles had come to know.

“So this is what you look like when you transform,” Charles remarked to distract himself. “I had wondered if it would be more of an amalgamation of man and dog, but it seems that isn’t the case.”

He had not thought of it much, realistically, his mind too full of everything else to concern himself with it. Now he did wonder about all of it: the logistics of the transformation, how often it occurred, how much Erik might be aware of behind those feral eyes.

“I wonder if you cannot turn back for some amount of time,” Charles thought aloud, “seeing how you seem to show no sign of it now when I expect you would if you could.” Another option occurred to him and what rationality still existed within him leaned heavily upon it. “Or perhaps you are not Erik at all and you are just a large wolf with strange eyes and your previous answer was coincidental.” The thought was discouraging, but Charles chose not to mind it too much. “I suppose even if you are you will not mind if I call you the wrong name or speak to you. Any company is better than none. Erik or no, you must be seeking company yourself, yes? I heard your howl before. I think it must be a call to others.”

The wolf cocked his head at him. His eyes were so intelligent that Charles could not help but think he must understand him to some degree, even if it was merely in the tone of his voice. Softly at first he imitated the howl in an attempt to convey himself, a bit beyond minding if he looked ridiculous. The wolf perked his ears up, listening, and echoed him almost immediately after with far more confidence.

Such a melancholic sound, Charles thought, listening to it rise up into the air and disappear among the tops of the trees, although the wolf did not seem sorrowful. Instead he stood and howled several more times before he was on top of Charles again.

Again Charles did not think he meant any harm but he was more forceful than before, licking the side of his face and going as far as to nip now and again. The latter was startlingly gentle; the former was excessively wet and slimy. “Hey!” Charles complained, attempting to shove him off and not having much success. He was far too absorbed in his task of coating the entire right side of his face with saliva.

“Ugh…” Charles wiped ruefully at the damage when the wolf relented at last, appearing pleased with himself. He laid down half on top of Charles, pressing his legs down with his weight. Charles sighed, unable to remain angry with him for too long.

He supposed he still didn’t know for sure that this animal was Erik but even the slimmest possibility of it made his chest ache, yearning for it to be true, particularly considering how affectionate it was being toward him.

Charles sighed again, looking Erik-wolf over where he had settled. “I am not so certain this is for the best. If you came here by accident and then Erik wakes up and finds me here, I doubt he’ll be pleased. All you’ve done is made things more difficult for me.”

Erik-wolf did not seem guilty over it. Charles gave in to the temptation to again pet him, running his fingers over the velvet fur of his ears down again to his head and his neck, scratching there. The contact was tolerated for which Charles was grateful. The animal’s body was warm and while the cold did little to bother Charles it was still comforting to feel.

“I’m sorry,” Charles told him, letting the words come without thought. “I’m so sorry, Erik. I suppose I’m glad to see you this way and not the other. I do not know what I could possibly say to you.”

There were a million things and nothing that Charles wished to say to Erik. He did doubt that any of the right ones would come out if he were to see him again. Then again, seeing how Erik-wolf didn’t seem to entirely understand him, there was no harm in confiding in him. The idea brought Charles some relief and so he set about it.

“I’ve missed you very much,” he whispered. There was no need for it, but he felt wary even speaking the words aloud, as if it might give them more power than they already possessed. “Days have always been long for me, but now they feel endless more often than not. I think it is that my heart will not believe the truth, or at the very least the reality of what occurred between us. I know it’s ended and that there is nothing else to say. The conclusion to the tale has been already set and yet I cannot help but stare at the last blank page and wish there to be more.”

Charles swallowed hard, unsure why voicing these things he already knew was making him feel as though someone was stepping down on his chest with increasing pressure. “I suppose that’s always the case with sad stories. You want badly for it to be different, but I wonder if that only makes it worse. It would be easier to accept it and move on. It’s by holding on that you continue to hurt after it has already happened.”

Erik-wolf did not seem particularly concerned with his musings, more content to lay near him. Charles wondered if he would not simply fall asleep at some point. He could not help begrudging him it somewhat, although he doubted much good would come from being jealous of a dog. Charles ran a hand down the length of his back, feeling again the thickness and coarseness of his fur.

“I wonder how it is that someone comes to deserve happiness,” Charles continued for lack of anything better to do. He would not get up and leave the wolf there—if he even could. He thought he might follow him if he tried. At least not until morning or whenever it was that he showed signs of turning back into something entirely different. “It used to seem to me that all people should, for everyone must start out equally but now I see that it’s not so simple. Some of us must go without for to indulge would be to take that right away from far too many others to make it fair and equal.

“I fear you know what I mean,” Charles told him, pressing a hand to his neck and keeping it there, steady. “Or you would if you knew what I was speaking of at all. That to me does seem unjust. There is little reason for you to not seek out such a thing. Even like this you seem to me much gentler than you look. I cannot believe you would readily harm someone innocent. Yet you remain the only person I’ve known who I thought might understand this life of mine, if I may call it that. What fairness is there that you too should know this hurt in my chest?”

Charles sighed. It was both frustrating and relieving to speak openly to someone who could not respond nor even listen, at least to his knowledge. Charles imagined for a moment that he could, or that at the very least he might remember it later and continued on. “Do you think that how one is made should determine whether or not they are worthy of life? Many years I’ve wandered alone for the safety of others, staying far from what I once loved or anything that I might come to love. I did not ask to become what I am, but does that matter? I often wonder about it,” Charles admitted.

Erik-wolf huffed at him again, tilted his ears back in his direction.

Charles sighed. “I suppose this not a topic a wolf could understand. It would be better if I waited to ask it of your human form. I think you would be honest with me, although that alone is enough to make me wary of asking. I believe your views on the topic are not particularly well-influenced.”

He leaned over, resting some of his own weight on the body in front of him, closing his eyes. What a deceptively peaceful night it was, so quiet, so calm. “You should know that you were right to throw me out. No matter what I may wish, it is not your responsibility to right the wrongs of my past. You have more than enough burden to bear on your own.”

Here finally, Charles thought he had found the closure he’d been seeking. Letting all these feelings flow forth without filter, seeing Erik once more, being able to confess it all to him—it was enough. Pain still radiated throughout him at the thought, but it was about time that he stop pursuing such a fruitless hope. It was as though he was staring at cold winter ground and wishing for something to bloom. It was pathetic and ignorant. It was time for him to move on.

Charles felt at last like he could accept it and that brought with it relief. Still, a quiet voice murmured within him that it would not hurt to stay a bit longer, at least until Erik-wolf grew tired of him and went on his way which Charles thought he must do eventually. That he could not bring himself to fight.

Erik-wolf grew tired of being used as a pillow soon after and stood up abruptly, thoroughly dislodging Charles who couldn’t help but be disappointed by the loss. The wolf stared at him again. It was direct, but not particularly predatory. Cautious perhaps. It made Charles think of the way Erik used to look down at him in the garden or on the nights before they had kissed, overly wary and misunderstanding Charles’s feelings as well as his own.

The wolf did not remain that way for long, moving to again nip at Charles, especially near his cheeks, sharp little pulls with his teeth. Charles scrunched his eyes closed and pressed his lips together and bore it, not horribly happy to have this start up again. Erik-wolf granted him some mercy this time around, moving on to lick at his hair instead. Charles wiped at his face and hurried to push him off again. “As it happens, I do _not_ need slobber in my hair as well as all over my face. I’ll already need to rinse off in the river thanks to you!”

Erik-wolf stumbled back obligingly although Charles had a feeling he could easily knock him down and keep him there if he wanted to, producing some noise between a growl and a whine which sounded particularly irritated. He sank down several feet away from Charles, hunched into himself, looking dejected.

Charles could not help but laugh at him. “You’re ridiculous. Dramatic even as a wolf, I see. That is rather impressive.”

Erik-wolf looked mildly offended as best he could given his current condition, or maybe Charles was merely projecting what he thought Erik’s reactions might be onto the animal. It was too dark in the forest to tell and it was fun to imagine nonetheless.

Charles took pity on the creature and attempted to console it. “Don’t look at me that way. If it’s any consolation you are far easier to be around now than you are as a human. You seem content to let me speak rather than argue back against most anything I say.” Even as he insulted it slightly Charles dearly missed their discussions. Erik’s mind, while an occasionally unreasonable and frustrating place, was wonderful and Charles had come to believe he could speak with him all day and night and never grow tired or disinterested.

He supposed that was part of what had caused him to latch so entirely onto Erik. The intellectual bond aided by physical desire was a force to be reckoned with. Charles wondered if he would ever again find a soul so similar and sympathetic to his own in all his endless days.

“I believe we might grow bored of each other quickly, however,” Charles continued. “I am glad to have seen you in this form before I departed. It’s fascinating to see.”

Charles cast his mind in that direction, reaching again for distraction. He had thought long on more serious matters. Some curiosity would do him good. It was interesting to think of Erik as the animal before him and surreal to think of changing into something else so entirely unlike one’s self.

“Do you change on the full moon?” Charles inquired. “Or more often? Seeing how you are here now I must believe the latter, but it makes me wonder what dictates the transformation.”

Erik-wolf was not listening to him. Instead he was cocking his ears and turning his head off toward the direction of the river. Charles glanced that way as well and saw nothing, his senses paling next to the wolf’s. The dark around them ate up the forest’s day-time vibrancy as well as most of one’s clarity of mind.

The beast got back up to his feet slowly, silent as a moonless night when he chose to be despite his size. Charles watched him closely, watched how his ears cocked and his tail stilled. There was palpable tension in the air like a charge and all at once Erik-wolf leapt forward out of sight, off into the trees. Within seconds Charles could no longer hear him.

It was surprising for only a few moments. Charles had wondered when he would leave as soon as he arrived and he could not bring himself to be too upset over it. This loss was a mere echo of the prior and it rebounded off him without doing much harm. He thought it was for the best that he leave in case he did miraculously turn back to Erik at the break of dawn.

Charles supposed he ought to get moving and sat planning where he might go for a stretch of time, allowing his unanswered questions to drift away, out of mind. He knew vaguely where he was, having left previously and returned, but he needed to decide whether to dive further into the wilderness of this country or choose the longer trek somewhere further away but admittedly safer.

Within that time the brush rustled again and Erik-wolf came bursting back into view at a full sprint. It startled Charles so much, so unlike his original, silent approach was it, that he knocked his head against the tree behind him.

He swore, rubbing at his neck ruefully before he managed to glance up and see what had happened. Erik-wolf had dropped something at his feet—a rabbit, Charles saw, looking closer. Dead.

The wolf panted and bent to take it back into his mouth. Charles frowned, not overly repulsed by the gore, but hating to see it anyway. “Erik,” he scolded uselessly.

He paid him no mind, busy picking at his kill, uncaring of the fur and bones. Charles felt strange watching it. How innocent it all was. The creature clearly did not know what he did might be considered violent or repulsive. He had no qualms or guilt over his action. But this was natural. Wolves killed rabbits, as they always had. It was all they could do.

_It’s different_ , Charles told himself. _He doesn’t know better_.

Still, the scene rested uneasily in his stomach as he watched the blood soak back into the dirt, the earth taking back its own. He could not help but be envious of the ease with which it carried on and cursed again at his own unnatural state.

It was over quickly, the rabbit’s limp body no match for the wolf’s jaws. He looked up at Charles when he was finished and growled, perhaps concerned Charles was a threat to his supper. Charles bowed his head, not wishing at all to fight him and that seemed to be appeasing enough. He ran off again afterward and Charles buried the carcass.

It continued on throughout the night, although Erik-wolf made no further kills. Charles knew not what he did when he ran off. All he knew was that he always returned back to Charles. At first he was more loath than before to let the creature lick his face, but after some time passed he grew tired of trying to stop it, doing his best to forgive the animal his unwitting indiscretion.

He found it strange that he would not simply run off and stay away, but again and again he came back to him to the point where he wondered if Erik-wolf wanted him to come along.

“You are not making it any easier to leave,” Charles told him at one point, exasperated. “I fear you will only follow me and I will have the same trouble I would have experienced had I stayed here.”

Erik-wolf did not apologize for his strange loyalty, only huffed at him and attempted to lick his hair once more.

He had settled again by the time dawn at last appeared, filtering in through the trees, searingly bright. Charles had taken to stroking his fur and looking at his great large paws. They were near the same size as Charles’s hand. Erik-wolf seemed tired and was tolerating the examination. It was only logical, as his time was almost up.

It happened almost as soon as Charles spotted the emerging light. Erik-wolf began to whine and shudder. It quickly turned to convulsions and after a brief moment of concern Charles intuited what was happening and leapt to his feet, hurrying to put some distance between them instinctively.

He turned back and found himself held in place by the grotesque sight, completely frozen. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. It made him almost sick to his stomach with the way it looked. Charles had long since thought himself immune to the less pleasant sights of this world but this was like nothing he had seen before.

Beyond the initial shock of it, however, Charles could not help but be amazed by what was happening before his eyes. Such complete transmutation of being, so perfectly done, one entire existence into another with something unspeakable in between. He supposed he was also relieved to have been correct in his assumption and glad to not have been speaking to an extremely odd, eerily large pure canine all the night long.

Slowly but surely, the wolf became Erik exactly as he had known him, curled into himself on the ground, completely bare in the face of the arriving morn. Charles’s mind stalled for a few long moments, entirely useless because of the sight, and it was long enough for Erik to glance up and see him.

Fear rushed through him, twisting wildly in his chest like a caught bird. He did not believe that Erik would cruelly seek him out, driven by some hidden bloodlust, no, but he believed most entirely that Erik would stick to his word once he had delivered it. Charles wouldn’t blame him, given the circumstances. To find him on his land so long after he had banished him, let him go despite all logic to the contrary, showed him as much mercy as he possessed… Charles doubted he would be pleased.

It was true Erik was unarmed but he was fast and strong and the forest had no shortage of wood and stones and other things to make use of. So Charles spun as soon as their eyes met and made to flee off into the trees before Erik could recover.

He did not get that far.

“Charles,” Erik called, voice hoarse and desperate. “Please, wait!”

Charles fell forward a step, unsteady, having meant to run rather than stride, hesitating and cursing himself for it. He must leave, run far from this place at last, but there was something in Erik’s voice that held him fast.

“Please,” Erik begged. “Please.”

Slowly Charles turned back, tensing as best he could in case he needed to move quickly, but it was for naught. Erik was as he had left him, down on the ground, looking up at him. His expression was hardly livid or even surprised. Instead it was crumpled in and horribly vulnerable. There was anxiety in the lines of his face, each still so familiar despite the time passed. Charles imagined he could still feel the weight of his head in his hands, the give of his skin.

Charles didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he had not already voiced and he could not bear to say it again so soon. And so he remained silent.

“Please don’t leave,” Erik said after a heavy pause. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Irritation bloomed, a sharp burst of color amongst the otherwise murky pool of his emotions, purposefully irrational. _Who was it that demanded I leave in the first place?_ he wondered even as he kept his mouth firmly shut.

This, much like the night before, felt eerily like a dream, riddled with scenes which had before only existed within his thoughts and wishes. As a result he could not help but be suspicious and doubtful of it all. There was only so far that reality could bend. Still, Charles didn’t believe that Erik was attempting to lure him closer or the like. He was too direct for it. If he meant to go after him, he would have been on his feet running already.

“You cannot expect me to believe there is truth in your request,” Charles forced out, attempting to hide how clearly his voice showed him crumbling in the face of this and not succeeding.

Erik pushed himself up into more of an upright position but did not get to his feet nor attempt to approach. Rather, he bowed his head, digging his fingers into the dirt below him. “I would not expect you to believe it, no. But there is little else I can say for the feelings behind my words are as honest as I believe they can be.”

Charles blinked at him, partially to get rid of some of the blurriness around the corners of his eyes and partially because he could not understand. It couldn’t be true. It was impossible. Charles rather hated whatever fluke this was as it was doing a wonderful job of destroying his hard work over the past weeks of pressing down wandering thoughts such as this wherein his mind wondered _what if_ again and again, feeding the pitiful hope still within him which he had been trying to do away with.

Charles shook his head, taking in the picture before him and thinking it was about as disjointed as his thoughts: Erik hunched over in the dirt lit up by the morning glory behind him. It was too much for him. He could not believe it. He could not let himself believe it after he had spent so long insisting that there was no possible way for it to be. His poor, beaten heart, lifeless as ever, ached horribly in his chest.

Erik seemed to sense that he wasn’t making much progress and his eyebrows drew closer together. “Please at least consent to return with me to the castle so that we may talk. If you still do not believe me or—or if you do not desire to stay at all, you would be free to go as you please.” Charles wondered at his hesitation on the latter half of his conditional phrase. “I swear on my life that no harm will come to you. Please, Charles.”

Charles swallowed hard. God, the way he sounded—Charles could never have imagined seeing so great and proud a man begging down on his knees for a favor from someone like him and it broke something inside of him. Between his own susceptibility and now this, how could he possibly refuse? Despite all that had happened, he trusted Erik to keep his word.

Very slowly, he nodded. “Alright.”

Erik let out a deep breath as if an incredible burden had been lifted from his shoulders, collapsing back to the ground. He appeared to become aware of himself soon after, turning away from Charles and curling into himself, looking chagrined. “I’m…sorry for this. I have no control over it.”

Charles offered him a small smile. “It’s fine.” A pause and then he chose to be brave. “It’s nothing I have not seen before.”

That drew some degree of surprise to Erik’s expression and Charles worried he might take it as condescension but he only huffed out a laugh, forced but present. “I suppose so.”

It did little to encourage Erik to keep from covering himself and it occurred to Charles that he must be cold, in addition to being worn out from his transformation. The realization caused him to move without thinking, the time by Erik’s side outweighing the previous stretch of separation. Charles carefully slid off his cloak—there was no point in hiding beneath it now and the sun was barely risen yet—and approached Erik with it.

“Take this,” Charles offered, holding it out to him. “For the walk back.”

Erik looked baffled by the offer, but only offered a weak objection. “Are you sure?”

Charles huffed at him. “Yes. Just take it. It will be nothing more than a regular cloak to you.”

“That’s not…” Erik began but thought better of it, reaching for the garment and taking it. Charles was grateful for how careful he was with it. “Thank you.”

Charles nodded, feeling more pleased with what he’d done than such a small action necessitated and annoyed at himself for it.

Soon after Erik managed to get to his feet, wrapping the cloak around himself and they set off in silence. Charles knew generally where they were headed but he was glad that Erik was leading them nonetheless.

It was very strange indeed to be walking alongside him again. Charles was glad for the sounds of the forest waking up to fill the obvious distance between them. Another bright summer day was sweeping in. It made Charles long somewhat for fall with its shorter days and cooler breezes and colorful display. The sun became an issue sooner than later as they walked.

Charles clutched his hands to himself, pressing them into his pockets to shade them. There was not much he could do for his face or neck. Erik was avoiding looking in his direction for the most part but this even he noticed

“Charles…”

“I know,” Charles snipped, overly curt without meaning to be. He pressed a smile on for a few moments before ducking his head. “I apologize if it’s bothersome.”

“No,” Erik was quick to reply, still staring at him. It was a curious look more than anything else but that almost made it more difficult to bear. “You’re…shining.”

Charles sighed and pulled his hand back out in an attempt to get Erik to look away from his face, the stinging sensation along his skin returning at once. “Yes.” He had heard it described as more of a glow before, but no matter the word it was a sheen as if on metal across his skin where the sun touched it. “It’s meant to be a beacon of sorts. It identifies….those like me easily to anyone who might see us out in the light.”

Erik frowned and glanced away from him and Charles thought he would turn back to silence.

He did not. “It is different from the stories.”

“…yes.”

“Does it hurt you at all?” Erik continued. “To be out in the sun?”

Charles was not sure he wanted to be speaking so openly to him so soon, particularly about something like this, but the questions sounded honest and he couldn’t bring himself to simply ignore them. “If I am out in it long enough, yes. It can burn me. Only direct sunlight can do true damage, however. It’s not overly painful for short periods of time.”

Erik nodded and did seem as though he would end the conversation this time around.

“The stories are always more dramatic than reality,” Charles said in an attempt to salvage it. “Though I suppose you must know that as well as I.”

It drew Erik’s eyes, something unreadable there, but no true response. Charles did not try again.

They reached the castle by the time the sun was fully up in the sky. It looked much like it had the night Charles arrived and the night he left, rising up out of the trees, towering over the landscape, intimidating and eternal. Charles’s stomach twisted to see it, caught between unease, nostalgia, and eagerness to return. He thought Erik might pause on the outskirts of the garden, but he continued to walk, guiding them through it.

Charles stole glances at the plants, glad if nothing else to see them still doing well, thriving in the warmer weather. The grass was wet still from the night, dew clinging to the blades and wetting the hems of his trousers. He chose to focus on that rather than how close they were to the door.

Erik veered off to the side rather than going directly in, producing what appeared to be a pile of clothes from some hiding place nearby. He struggled quickly into his trousers before he shed the cloak and handed it back to Charles. It was still warm, Charles noted, and it would take weeks to lose his smell. He supposed he would worry about that later, depending on how the day went.

Charles secured it back around himself, grateful for the facsimile of protection it provided. Erik dressed himself to satisfaction soon after and moved to go inside. Charles followed after him, pausing briefly on the threshold. It was different from the one he had been forced out of, but it did not feel that way. Part of him yearned to turn and run back to something simpler, back to safety, but the majority could not stand being away a second longer.

So he took a breath and stepped inside, off toward where Erik was waiting for him.


	11. Chapter 11

Erik led Charles back to his chambers. He had thought of putting him another room, but he thought it might bring back old memories and he didn’t want to create any more of an uphill battle for himself than he already had on his hands.

It was an immense relief to have him near again and back within these walls. Things had not gone entirely to plan out in the woods, but they hardly ever did when he involved his other form. It was far too difficult for him to regain control until the morning had forced it and he should have known as much. Still, he hadn’t thought he would find Charles so early. He was much closer to the house than he had expected him to be.

It made the latter half of the trip easier he supposed, not having thought that through particularly well. His memories of the night were clearer than had it been a forced change, but they were blurry nonetheless, brief flashes of images and awareness. Even if it was somewhat anxiety-inducing that Charles could remember the time and he could not, Erik decided not to think much about it. His prediction that Charles might know the truth had been correct—or Charles was simply the most unflappable person he had ever met. Either way, Charles hadn’t mentioned it and Erik had larger issues to concern himself with.

He cursed himself for how little thought he had put into this plan. As always, he was exhausted after a change and his body wanted nothing more than collapse into unconsciousness for a good long while after the strain put upon it. That desire was not conducive to having brought Charles back here to speak with him, preferably sooner rather than later before the other man could change his mind.

Charles hesitated upon Erik’s inviting him back inside the space, flicking his eyes over toward him as though waiting for Erik to reveal that this had been a ruse all along. He was very nervous, Erik knew, noticing the tension gathering in his muscles. He jumped when Erik looked at him, even if he hid it well, and Erik hated himself for it. Still, he stepped inside after a pause, remaining close to the door.

Erik’s mind overlaid unhelpful images of the previous time he was in this room and he shoved them away, closing the door behind himself and leaning up against it. He sighed, bowing his head. He felt as though he was being pulled toward the ground by exhaustion and fighting it was doing little good.

“Are you alright?” Charles asked. He was hovering in the corner of the room when Erik sought him out, keeping away from the furniture as if he might be scorned for taking advantage of it.

Erik marveled at his kindness as he had in the forest when Charles had offered him his cloak which was, in his experience, perhaps the one thing Charles was possessive over in the whole world. He sighed, unwilling to lie. “Changing is not particularly easy on my body.”

“Into a wolf, you mean,” Charles clarified.

Erik tried not to flinch hearing it aloud. “Yes.”

“Do you need to rest?”

Erik nodded after a few moments spent resisting.

Charles returned the gesture. “Go ahead.” He was not looking at him much, Erik noticed, his gaze always off toward the books or the bed or the window, a restless sea.

Looking him over, Erik hated to think he would be forced to wait longer to say all he needed to him. It was almost difficult to believe he was there again, come back to him, at least physically speaking. In some ways it was as if he had never been gone, only hiding among the books, waiting to slip back out into sight after some time, but Erik’s memories of his absence were sufficiently corrective.

“I’m sorry to have to waste your time,” Erik told him.

That drew Charles’s eyes. “Do not worry much over it. I have little else but time. Rest, Erik. You’ll be no good for conversation if you are falling asleep every other word.”

That was the most Charles had sounded like himself since Erik had seen him again and it struck Erik like a blow to the chest. _God, how I missed you_. Erik wondered if Charles could read it on his face. He felt like he could do little to hide it, as if it were streaming out him in some tangible way. _I missed you_.

Charles allowed himself to be caught up in it for a moment, looking back at Erik, something like a response in his eyes before he again turned away, feigning looking over the bookshelves.

“Very well,” Erik murmured, moving to lie down on the bed. Despite his exhaustion, restlessness still existed within him at the pause, at being made to wait longer yet. He was intensely aware of Charles’s presence in the room, even after he forced himself to close his eyes.

**

The waiting was unbearable. Charles could not think of anything he else he must be more experienced in than waiting and yet he still had no tolerance for it. It brought an itchiness to his skin that he could not be rid of until it was over and made the room more suffocating that it already would have been.

This room was full of far too many memories for his taste, all bearing down upon him in the silence interrupted only by Erik’s quiet breathing. The quality of them mattered not, far outweighed by their pure quantity. Charles moved about the room as if outrunning them, touching as little as possible, not wanting to disrupt that which did not belong to him.

He did however close the blinds somewhat, as he had before, so that sun could only shine directly in a stripe across the floor on the far side of the room and not throughout. It was bizarre to think of how carelessly he had used this space, how entitled he had played at being, coming in without Erik’s permission, using his books and his bed and his furniture. It was part of the disguise he often wore. If he didn’t act comfortable around others, how could they possibly be comfortable around him?

And now look at him, averse to stepping on the fine rugs. Charles sighed, ignoring the anxiety attempting to suffocate him as best he could over what might happen still in this room. He thought the place must burst at this rate, too full of words and mistakes made and things lost.

He picked his way back to the other side of the room, closer to the door. He thought of running, but couldn’t bring himself to do it, much as he had been unable to in the woods. He knew full well that he would stay where Erik had asked him to be, that he would wait for him as long as it took if there was even the slimmest possibility that—

Those thoughts Charles did push away with as much force as he was able. He could not have any expectations of this. It wasn’t worth the trouble, he knew.

So rather than think Charles watched Erik off and on. It was a mirror of the first night they had met in some ways, he noticed, although that night Erik had remained resolutely awake until morning’s return. Now he slept soundly, even peacefully, curled on the bed. It was a very trusting gesture, Charles realized, no matter to what end. That he would willfully surrender to unconsciousness around Charles after what had occurred was almost shocking. It was certainly unexpected.

Even if he had no choice and had been pulled under due to some instinct he could not ignore, the thought settled Charles in some ways, gave him the courage to find a chair to sit in at the very least rather than hovering around the wall like some strange moving picture frame. He sank down into it and remained there to watch the light move on the floor and Erik’s chest rise and fall.

 _Perhaps it will be different_ , part of his mind whispered, outright refusing to be discouraged completely.

It was worrying, but he couldn’t disagree with the suggestion. So, he sat and he waited for whatever might come next.

**

When Erik awoke it was not unlike the time two moons ago, late enough into the afternoon for the light to have turned golden, growing finer with the passing of the day, gaining color. Except Charles was not lying next to him reading as if he had been doing it for years before and would for years to come. He was in the room still, Erik noted. He’d sat down in one of the chairs, closest to the door, but had no book in his hands. The differences between the two scenes were sharp enough to cut.

 _Whose fault is that_? part of his mind hissed at him and he supposed it was right but he wasn’t in the mood to rub salt into his own wounds.

So rather than ruminate further—as if he had been doing anything else for a whole damned month—he forced himself to sit up, sore still from the change but much better off than he would have been if he had simply gone on without allowing some time to mend. He used to be able to sit for a half hour and then move on, but the years had passed and now he needed more time, as it was with many other tasks. This time around it had proven to be particularly inconvenient. He was beyond impatient to begin whatever this might turn out to be.

Charles noticed him stirring and Erik felt eyes on him soon after even as the other man remained silent. Erik wondered that he had not bothered to borrow a book to pass the hours but perhaps he had not thought he was allowed it. Erik swallowed around the bitter realization, faced directly by the consequences of what he’d done. At least he had had some time to settle somewhat from the morning’s strange events but Erik was not sure that entirely balanced things out.

“I’m sorry for sleeping for so long,” he said, forcing out the awkward apology in an attempt to get it out of the way and start the conversation, moving to get up and away from the bed. He did not much like the idea of being anywhere near it while speaking to Charles. He didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than he already was.

Charles shrugged. “I doubt you could control it. As I said, I have nowhere else to be.”

Erik again could only think of who was to blame for that and as such did not comment on it. Instead he focused on walking slowly closer to Charles, not wanting to speak across the room and also not wanting to frighten him. Charles stayed where he was even as he kept an eye on Erik’s progress. In the end Erik couldn’t bring himself to sit and remained standing.

He did not know where to begin which was frustrating after all the time he had had to perhaps prepare something. Fortunately Charles was discontented enough with the silence to take the conversation into his own hands.

“Was it purposeful?” he asked. “Your coming after me? Or was it incidental.”

“It was purposeful,” Erik admitted, easily enough. “Although it was admittedly not well thought-through. I thought you must be further from the house and thought it might be the only way to again seek you out.”

Charles nodded, taking in the new knowledge, something guilty crossing his face like a shadow. “I _should_ have been further gone… Did you know I would recognize you?”

Erik hesitated. “I wasn’t certain. It was only speculation that you might.”

It drew a smile from Charles and though it was small it was brighter than all of the day’s sunlight, just visible through a small opening in the curtains. “To be truthful, I didn’t know with full certainty that it _was_ you until you turned back. I thought you might just be an overlarge, very strange wolf.”

Erik thought he must have been more sure than he admitted if he’d tolerated Erik as long as he had. “I had hoped you might not see me for who I was. That too was part of why I came to you as I did. I thought you might not stay long in one place if you knew.”

Charles pressed his lips together, glanced down at his knees. He lost some of the softness he had adopted in the past few minutes in his expression and limbs, and Erik regretted saying what he had. “Seeing how you last spoke to me, I do not think you could blame me for it if I fled.”

Erik looked down as well, his own words echoing back to him. “No. I would not.”

There was a pause which expanded immediately between them, chasing aside the cordial and even familiar interaction they had been, for the most part, achieving and casting the truth of their situation back into focus. Charles clearly expected more and Erik knew he had to give it. It could be his only chance for he knew not how long he could hold Charles here.

“I should never have said those things to you,” he said, levelling his gaze on Charles in hopes he could convince him of his earnest belief in his words. “They were cruel and unfair. In the moment perhaps they seemed necessary, but now—”

It was wrong, what he was saying. Too formal, too guarded. He could see it in Charles’s eyes that this was not going to change anything between them. It would not be enough. Erik was angry with himself for being so cowardly even now. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if this went as it had been going with him shying away from everything that needed to be said. He could lock it away no longer. No more secrets, no more hiding things behind curtains in hopes that one day they might simply disappear. Erik knew how he felt.

He gathered his strength and began again. “I was afraid,” he said. “Afraid of what I did not know. I have never regretted anything more in my life than how I acted that night.” He had mistreated Charles from the day he appeared on his doorstep, looking down on him, pushing him away, but this went far beyond that. “I would not dare ask for forgiveness, but know that I’m immensely sorry for what I’ve done. Words could not encapsulate the depth of my remorse.”

Erik could feel himself breaking as he knew he would but he didn’t bother with attempting to save face or pretending that he wasn’t. Charles deserved to see him as he was, not as he pretended to be. He swallowed around the soreness in his throat, moving closer so he could again kneel down and properly repent before him. “I have missed you every second you were gone from me and still now I miss you because I know you are yet out of my reach. I was too stubborn to admit it to myself for far too long, but I know now that I couldn’t live if I did not see you again and take back all that I said. I hate to think of the trouble I’ve caused you, the worry I see even now on your face, and I hate more to think that all I can do is offer these feeble words of apology to help soothe it.”

Erik took a deep breath, knowing he was tripping over his words. He was frustrated by his own limitations, his inability to appropriately convey all that he felt in a way that was anything other than superficial. He looked down at the floor below him and wished desperately that he could somehow overcome it, even as he knew he could not. He wiped at his eyes in the meantime, kept his head bowed, trying to gather himself once more.

He heard Charles take a shaky breath above him. “You did what you thought was right. I don’t think poorly of you for it. What I did was…entirely unforgivable. I would have thought you mad had you not thrown me out that night. The only reason you found me again was because I was too pitiful and selfish to leave when I was told—”

“It was not right,” Erik interrupted him, unable to help himself, looking up again at Charles and finding him in about the same state as himself. The look in his eyes was so horribly similar to the one he had fixed Erik with right as he’d agreed to leave peacefully that it pained him to see. “I didn’t allow you to speak or explain. I tossed you out into the night as if you were nothing to me.”

“Because I hurt you,” Charles objected, his eyebrows drawing down. Erik could almost sense him digging his heels into the ground of his point and wished he would not do it over something so clear in Erik’s mind. “Erik, I could have killed you that night. It was pure luck that made it so I did not. I should never have stayed in the first place. I disregarded your safety for the sake of my own desires—”

“They were not only your desires,” Erik objected. “You would not have stayed past the first night if that were the case.”

That gained him some ground although Erik didn’t think it was in the exact direction he wanted. Charles swallowed hard and his lips quirked. “You’re telling me you did not hire me solely on the basis of my excellent yardwork?”

Erik coughed out a laugh, unable to help himself. “Among other things.”

It drew a small laugh from Charles and Erik basked in the sound briefly. His heart all but stopped when Charles reached down, leaning over to take his face in his hands. It was a hesitant movement, slow as if allowing time for Erik to pull back. When Erik stayed firmly where he was he could feel Charles’s cool touch once more. He held him gently as if cradling a flower petal.

Charles looked surprised, like he might be witnessing something impossible, but soon after he was speaking again. “What I did was wrong regardless of anything else that had occurred before it. Circumstances cannot excuse such an act. Just because I love you—” Charles froze, snapping his teeth together as if he could take the words back in.

Erik felt he must have misheard, but if he had there was little reason for Charles to fall so completely silent afterward. In that moment, in spite of the disbelief that that clawed instinctively at him, as Erik processed what he had heard, the room glowed a bit brighter.

“…do you?” he couldn’t help but ask. It seemed impossible after what he had done. He couldn’t understand it in the least other than to think that somehow Charles’s soul might be drawn to Erik’s just as surely as Erik’s was drawn to his. It was a pull that he did not fully understand either although he felt its effect acutely at all times.

Charles lifted his head up only to glare down at him. “Of course I do,” he hissed. “To think you would still question it after all this time—”

“How could I not?” Erik reached to hold on to Charles’s wrists, circling them with his own fingers. Charles didn’t pull them away from him this time and Erik could feel that, yes, there was no pulse to be found. At the moment, however, he could not be bothered to think much of it. “After the way I’ve acted, after the way I’ve treated you…”

“You did nothing wrong!” Charles insisted, leaning further toward him. “It was as you said: you acted out of fear, which was entirely justified! How can you claim to be in the wrong when you so nearly lost your life because of me?”

Erik was still caught up in Charles’s accidental confession, but he forced himself to focus. “I am alive because of you,” he pointed out.

Charles scoffed. “That does _not_ negate the previous point.”

“Did you mean to do it?” Erik demanded, frustrated by Charles’s refusal to listen to reason. He could not begin to comprehend how it was that he could have spent a month thinking on the topic and carefully drawing his conclusions only for Charles to not be able to see the truth of them.

The other man shrunk back somewhat at the question. “Of course not. I could never…”

“Then you have done nothing wrong. You cannot be held responsible for something beyond your control and even then you did all that you could to correct it. You see now that it was I who abused you.”

“Not in the least! That hardly absolves me, but even if it did, if I acted out of instinct and am free of blame how is your case any different?”

Erik huffed, seeing how little progress they were making. He was not sure what he meant to achieve by it, but at the very least he thought he must deserve some scorn from Charles, some harsh words in response to his cowardly, prejudiced actions. To instead receive the words he had was beyond disconcerting, as if stepping out into the embrace of a summer day in the midst of winter.

Charles reacted similarly to their stalemate, letting his eyes drift up toward the ceiling before they re-centered once more upon Erik. “I see you’ve grown no less impossible to reason with than when I last parted with you.” The way he said it was strangely fond, Erik noticed. The warmer tone in his voice was more present than any sort of true complaint.

Erik noticed how close they’d grown in the midst of their debate. He could feel Charles’s breath, could see clearly the exact curves of his face, could map out the undiscovered galaxies in his eyes. Their proximity only augmented his desperation to rejoin with Charles, to be rid of the damnable distance he’d put between them. In the moment his argument was forgotten and could only lean forward further.

Charles took a sharp, quiet breath inward, intimating his intention.

“May I…?” Erik asked, unwilling to overstep what Charles might be comfortable with.

Hesitance gathered in the corners of his eyes for a long moment but fled soon after when he nodded. “Yes, if you’d like.”

Permission granted, Erik leaned forward to press their lips together again after what felt like a small eternity of separation. Charles’s lips were as soft as Erik remembered and he made a small sound when Erik kissed him. Erik reached up, unable to keep from touching him a moment longer, brushing away any stray tears from his cheeks, clutching close to him.

The chasteness of the kiss disintegrated quickly and all at once they were grasping at each other and kissing open-mouthed and hungry, falling back into each other as if there really was some thread connecting them which could only be stretched so far before it retracted and reunited the two of them. Erik reveled in drinking him up again, reacquainting himself with the shape of his lips and the taste of his tongue before he broke off to kiss down the side of his face and the smooth line of his neck. At that Charles did pull back somewhat and Erik thought he might be moving too quickly. He didn’t wish to make him uncomfortable and so he returned first to his lips to kiss him more sweetly and fully. He then took one of Charles’s hands into his so he could kiss at the knuckles and again at the soft curve of his palm when Charles turned it upward toward him.

Charles sighed shakily and Erik kissed at the inside of his wrist, wondering at how vulnerable the skin there was. “Why can you not simply believe me when I insist that it was I who was in the wrong?”

Erik closed Charles’s fingers within his hands, as carefully as he should have held it before, making up for lost time now that he knew just how precious this hand he now held truly was to him. He steeled himself and looked up at Charles. He had learned well enough that both of them must be honest if there was any hope of this living long enough to blossom and thrive. “Because I love you.”

For a moment it seemed like Charles might object but the possibility was soon chased off by something far more wonderful and bright spreading across his face. He brought his free hand up to wipe at his eyes. “That is a terrible precedent to set,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion.

“Could you not allow it?” Erik asked, still entranced by the happiness unfurling rebelliously and miraculously across his face when he thought he might never again be privileged enough to see such a sight. It felt strange to think of it, to allow optimism free reign for once in his mind, but he could not help but believe that things might turn out after all somehow. It was liberating in the way he imagined jumping from a cliff into a waiting body of water must be: dangerous, but well worth it if you put enough trust in your ability to safely land. “Just this once?”

Charles appeared to think seriously about it for a stretch of time before he lowered himself down out of the chair until he was down with Erik who tilted back to sit properly in anticipation. He was right to have done it for Charles collapsed into him soon after, embracing him fully and pressing his face into his shoulder, holding on as if he never meant to let go again. Erik clutched him just as tightly. The relief he felt at having him back again in his arms was immense and he couldn’t help but lean up against Charles as well, the two of them holding each other up.

“Very well,” Charles said, his voice somewhat muffled by his shirt. “I’ll allow it.”

Erik squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to fight back the moisture gathering there, and felt grateful that Charles was turned away from him so he could not see how ridiculously wide he was smiling.


	12. Chapter 12

“How did you know?” Erik asked, a bit more hesitant in his questions than he used to be even after what had passed.

Charles did not begrudge him it, for he felt the same. There was some lingering awkwardness between them, augmented by incredulity on both sides and he had done little to lessen it. They had stayed for some time on the floor, kissing and touching and making up for lost time, and Charles could see where they were headed clearly enough. And it was not as though he didn’t want it. He wanted badly to see and feel Erik again as he had only a small sum of times before, had been longing for it on some base level since the moment he left, longing for more.

It was that fact that made him wary of it. He hadn’t been able to control himself before, so what would be different now? The thought of it drew terror into his veins as nothing else had for some time, and he put a stop to things before they could go too far. Erik had seemed disappointed and confused, but when Charles fabricated an excuse about not having washed in some time (an issue furthered by the fact that he’d recently been slobbered upon by a certain large canine, as he pointed out), he accepted it without question and offered him use of his bath.

It was true, admittedly, and the water and the soap felt exorbitantly luxurious after the past month of nothing but river water when he could be bothered with it, yet it had certainly taken away from the ease with which they were interacting again. Still, Charles could not bring himself to regret it. He knew he would need to deal with it eventually, but for a while longer he could avoid thinking about it.

“How did you know of what I am, that is,” Erik clarified and Charles was grateful for his attempts to fill the space he’d created. He had pulled up a stool and was sitting next to Charles as he bathed, eyes slipping down now and again even if they were always promptly lifted right after.

Charles wished he did not enjoy it so much. He thought, after everything, that it should be an afterthought, but it seemed unwilling to be, his body desperate to make its desires known after surrendering to the will of his mind for so long. Charles pressed the feelings aside nonetheless, and focused on the question.

The answer was not pleasant, but he thought they must begin voicing unpleasant things to one another to see if this truly was possible or not. The rosy light of the bathroom mixing in with the soapy swirls all around him were not helping at all to convince him that any of this was real. “Truthfully, it was from the taste,” he admitted, glancing at Erik to gage his reaction. “It will sound grotesque but it’s like any other food to me. It tastes differently depending on the source. Many years ago I had bitten someone like you and I remembered it.”

Erik kept his face very still which was not particularly encouraging, although he did manage a nod. “I see.”

Charles ducked his head, looking away, down into the water. “I wish I could say it was my excellent skills in deduction that led me to the conclusion, but that would be a lie and I do not wish to be dishonest with you any longer. However, I know how unsettling it must be to hear of such things and I understand if you do not wish me to speak of them.”

“Charles.” He forced himself to raise his eyes and found Erik looking at him sternly. “I was the one who asked. It’s…strange for me to hear, yes, but I wish for you to speak openly with me as much as you are willing. I’m not a child who must be shielded from some realities of this world. It’s part of your existence and I wish to know of it.”

Charles swallowed hard and nodded. Even if he could not completely believe that Erik meant all of what he said, it was immensely relieving to hear it. “That was why I was able to do what I did,” he confessed. “If it’s any reassurance your blood is not at all palatable to me.”

The weak attempt at humor knocked a sympathetic laugh from Erik’s chest. “I suppose that’s good to hear.” A pause and Erik tried again, determined to continue despite all odds. “What happened, if I might ask, last time? You said you had come across someone like me before.”

“Come across” was a very polite way of putting it. Charles thought back on the event. It was incredibly blurry in his mind. “It was many years ago. I was very young and a traveler had the unfortunate fate of coming across me on an empty road at night. I…got ahold of him but he transformed soon after and it startled me so badly that I ran off. I do not know what happened to him after.” Guilt rose in Charles’s chest at the thought. How stupid he had been, how cruel.

Erik took a deep breath in and out beside him and Charles thought this could not be. Surely Erik would come to his senses now that he saw more fully and in sharper relief what Charles was. He felt awfully exposed as he was.

“That is why you bit me again,” Erik said rather than demanding he leave at once.

Charles bit back his surprise, as he had been for the past while in their conversation—he had already insisted to Erik that he did not attack humans anymore, not that it meant much, and told him of the fact that he could go long stretches without feeding once sufficiently full—and replied. “Yes. To get the venom out. To bite someone and then leave them be for whatever reason would be to turn them almost certainly.”

He wondered if Erik would keep after that subject, if he might ask about Charles and he thought he was still too drained for that story. Fortunately Erik was kind and didn’t pursue it further, perhaps sensing how uncomfortable Charles was.

He distracted himself from the clinging darkness of those memories by scrubbing more at his skin, down his arms and over his legs. Again he felt Erik’s eyes on him, watching. The times he had caught him he hadn’t seen any lost desire there despite his new knowledge and Charles found that he could not let it be so easily.

“How is it that you can still want me?” he asked, turning fully toward Erik, desperate to know. “After all that you know? You see now that this is my whole existence. It is not a small, sectioned-off portion of me which is out of sight most hours of the day or weeks in a month.”

Erik frowned at him, parsing the words as they rang out through the echo-prone bathing room. “How can you possibly ask me such a thing? If you question it, how can you claim to feel the same for me despite knowing what I am?”

Charles huffed, frustrated with himself for being as he was and with Erik for not comprehending. “Because there are miles of difference between the two. There is no need for you to hurt to stay alive. You were born as you are, I assume, naturally. There is nothing natural in my being. I’m not in any danger because of what you are. On the contrary, I have been around your other form and had not a hair on my head harmed.”

“So we are to weigh existences,” Erik said, sitting back from him somewhat, “and dole out guilt in due amounts. If so you must tell me how it is you plan to assign such values objectively.”

 _How is that he cannot see it_? Charles demanded to himself, sitting up straighter in the bath, leaning up against the side toward him, disrupting the calm of the water around him. “By life taken, of course. It’s no different from any other crime.”

Erik sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Must we start this argument again?”

“Yes,” Charles argued, “and it must continue until you at last understand.”

“I understand enough,” said Erik, dropping his voice somewhat as if to deescalate the conversation back into something like a discussion, to seep some of the energy from Charles’s words by dispensing of some from his own, “but it doesn’t apply. I want you for who you are, Charles, who _you_ are. This container before me now, while it is very handsome, is not so much a factor.”

Charles’s mind scrambled, attempting to comprehend the distinction and failed rather completely. “I do not see the difference.”

Erik reached out to pull his hand out from the water and brought it over to him, holding it between his own, looking it over. “I know, though I wish you could.” A pause, then Erik’s eyes were on his again, seeking something Charles did not know if he had. “What would it take to convince you of it? To convince you of how much I do and have always wanted you?”

Charles looked over at where their hands were connected, not so different at all when one did not know the truth. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I…wish to believe it most desperately, but I feel that I cannot possibly deserve it. To act as if I do would be to deem the lives I’ve taken meaningless, I feel. As if they were worth less than my own.”

“You punish yourself for that which is not your fault.”

“It _is_ —”

“It isn’t,” Erik insisted, squeezing harder at his hand. “You think about this all wrong and I wonder that you did not correct me for the same way of thinking some months ago yourself.”

Charles bit at the inside of his cheek, knowing Erik was correct in the accusation. Still: “So I should feel no guilt over it. No remorse over what I do.”

The lines on Erik’s face grew deeper, his brows closer together. “It’s natural to feel remorse, but most things on this earth kill to live. All the rich families in their castles mindlessly killing their cattle and swine for their feasts, and the poor cleaning up the scraps, and all in between. I count myself in that lot as well. However, you must mourn and move on if you choose to do so. If you do not live then that life you made use of truly must go to waste.”

Charles could not help but feel still that it was different, that it could not be so simple. Even if it was, he couldn’t change so easily after hating this existence of his for so long. Erik seemed again to sense his stubbornness, reaching up to press a hand to his neck ever so lightly, the brush of a leaf in the wind, running his thumb over the scar Charles felt burnt into himself like a brand.

“You did not ask to be this way. I don’t know how or when, but someone forced this way of life upon you and you cannot bear the guilt for that act. You live as peacefully as you are able, take as little as you can. What else can any of us do?” asked Erik.

Feeling himself crumbling again as if he was some pile of uneven stones someone kept attempting to restack with a solid foundation, only to have it fall again some minutes later, Charles leaned into Erik who wrapped an arm around him automatically despite the dampness of his skin. He pressed his face into Erik’s shoulder and moved to hold on to him again. “Do you think that everyone deserves happiness? Or love?” he asked for the second time that day, brave enough now to seek the answer Erik would give.

Erik kissed his neck and was silent for a stretch of time before he spoke. “It is not about worthiness. This world is not so simple. How and why one might experience such things when another does not, I do not know. I can only tell you how things are as I see them and as I know them to be. My love for you is, and always will be, steady as the sun in the sky or the changing of the moon, no matter how you may feel about it. It is, as you are and as I am and as we are.”

Charles thought perhaps that was something he could believe and allowed himself to feel relieved and happy over it. “You believe me too, then, when I say that my love for you is the same,” he stated, masking a question. It was not always so simple with Erik, he knew. The fact that their beliefs were so similar and yet they were arguing over this spoke to something like hypocrisy, but Charles couldn’t be bothered with it at the moment.

Erik took a deep breath and Charles reveled in the way he could feel his heart beating so steadily in his chest. “Yes. I’ll believe that it is, even if I struggle to understand it as well.”

Charles pulled back from him so he could smile. The expression seemed to bring relief to Erik’s face. “Perhaps in time we’ll come to understand it together.”

Slowly Erik nodded and gave him a small smile in return. Charles suddenly felt very light. He supposed they would still have difficulties over this, but for now he felt far more certain that they would be able to overcome them somehow and that all of this was not so impossible at all.

“Thank you,” Charles said, pulling back to himself so that he could continue his abandoned task.

“For what?”

“Coming to find me.”

Erik’s eyes dropped down. “That’s not something to thank me for.”

“Then for what you said,” Charles suggested, although there was much more he was grateful for. “For it has put me more at ease.”

Erik looked as if he might argue that as well, but he did not. “I’m glad.” Slowly he reached a hand out toward Charles, hesitating as if to see if he might move away. When he held still, Erik ran his fingers over what skin he could reach where Charles had his legs bent in the tub. His hand slid smoothly over his thigh, knee, and shin until he again reached the barrier of the water and drew back. Charles wished paradoxically that he would keep going, now even more than before. “I’m glad to have you with me once more.”

Charles could feel clearly the same heat as he had before when they were running out in the woods, that same yearning for Erik that had eaten him alive for months, growing more and more powerful to the point where it had overwritten his own logic and common sense almost completely. However, before where he had let himself be consumed by it entirely, now he knew well enough to be cautious of it. He tilted his head back when Erik moved to kiss him, let Erik between his lips to press into him, but he didn’t reach for more. He simply didn’t trust himself enough.

Erik noticed of course, far too observant at the worst times and oblivious the rest. “Do you wish for me to not touch you so brazenly?” he asked rather bluntly. “It seems as though it makes you uncomfortable.”

Charles was unsure how to answer the question without looking entirely weak or foolish. He drew circles in the milky water around him briefly before deciding abruptly that he’d had enough of the bath and moving to get out of it, reaching for the towel Erik had set to the side for him. The tub acted as a bit of barrier between him and the question and he was glad for it. He set about drying off as he worked himself up to an answer.

“It’s not that it makes me uncomfortable,” he eventually said after leaving Erik to shift restlessly for a few long moments, “but more that I do not trust myself after last time.”

Comprehension flickered across Erik’s face and he looked off the side where before he’d been watching Charles rather closely. Charles took the interlude to dry off his hair and look him over further. He thought now that he knew what it was like to be without the sight he might never stop looking again for as long as he was able. Erik looked especially lovely in the sweeter light of the early evening.

“I had wondered,” Erik murmured.

Charles pressed his lips together, knowing well enough where the conversation was headed. “It was a loss of control,” he said, hoping to deflect somewhat. He still hated to think of what had occurred for more than one reason. “And I cannot think that I might not do the same again. It’s hardly worth the risk to be so careless.”

Erik pondered that, standing as well and coming closer to him. Charles wrapped the towel around himself somewhat, feeling silly for the modesty but also as if he needed it. “Could we not just be careful?” Erik asked, far too willing to take his life in his hands over something so frivolous.

It was horribly tempting to simply agree and let Erik take him back to his bed and do what he would. It was what Charles wanted and he assumed Erik had seen enough of his lust to know it. He was sure it was clear in the strain of his body, how he was holding himself still by force. “Perhaps.”

“Was it simply overwhelming?” Erik asked and Charles could hear some self-satisfaction hiding behind the inquiry.

Charles raised an eyebrow at him, unable to help himself. “It is not something to be proud of.”

Erik moved closer to him yet, slow paces, until he was close enough to touch. There he paused. Despite the lightness around them, Erik’s eyes were dark and full of intent. “So that was it then?”

Shaking his head, Charles forced himself to not get caught up in all of this so easily, difficult as it was. He knew he should simply tell Erik the truth, but the embarrassment curling in his chest was keeping him from it. It was not a feeling he was used to and so he did not know well how to deal with it. He was glad he couldn’t blush to give himself away.

“You do not wish to tell me,” Erik said for him, some sharpness coming back to his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s stupid,” Charles admitted, unable to keep from being honest, “and strange.”

“Stranger than the fact that I could transform into a wolf right now in this room if I chose to?”

It was an attempt at facetiousness and Charles appreciated it. “Perhaps not, but that is something you can control.”

Erik stepped up to him at last, crowding him and making warmth rise in him in a way the bath water had not. He set his hands on his waist and looked down at him, effectively caging him although Charles knew he would be able to get free if he wished it, if he truly did not want this. Arousal flourished within him at the feeling of Erik’s strong hands on him once more and he wasn’t sure the towel was doing much to keep his decency any longer. “Tell me,” Erik insisted. “Unless you do not want this, in which case I will stop at once.”

“I want it,” Charles said without meaning to, an automatic response before he ducked his head. “You will find it ridiculous after the trouble it caused.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Charles.”

Charles kept his head down even as his name was called. It was more foolish to make such trouble over it, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. “You must promise not to laugh at me.”

His chin was being tilted up and he could see Erik clearly again. He had a rather serious look on his face, far too serious for the actual topic. “I will not laugh at you.”

Charles sighed and chose to be done with it already. “It was the biting that did it.”

Erik frowned at him. “Yes, I knew that much.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Charles huffed, irritated at both of them. He tried again, this time choosing to be frank. “It is not as if there is no…pleasure from biting and feeding. It’s awful to say it, but it is rather arousing and types of pleasure are easy to mix. Because of that, oftentimes when vampires have relations we tend to bite each other because it has no effect and it _is_ extremely arousing.” Something so drastic over something so simple. It made Charles crazy to recall it. He had simply forgotten to think for a moment and let his instincts take hold and things had progressed from there.

Erik looked more incredulous than he did mocking at the very least when Charles chanced a look at him. “You enjoy being bitten,” Erik said.

“…yes.”

“And that is why you bit me.”

“Yes.”

Slowly Erik nodded. “I see now why you did not try to explain this to me the night it happened.” There was amusement in his voice after all and Charles shoved at him for it, feeling shame ache in his chest.

“I told you it was ridiculous,” Charles griped, pulling back from him so he would not be under such direct scrutiny any longer.

Erik held him fast. “I didn’t say that it was. It’s surprising, but it’s an instinct like any other, yes? You could not control it. I would much rather that be the reason than true bloodlust. Moreover, in equal part as you distrust yourself, I feel certain that you would not do it again.”

Charles was surprised by the confidence in Erik’s voice and ceased struggling because of it. He hoped desperately that he would not, but there was no way to be entirely sure. “It is not worth the risk,” he told him, keeping his voice firm.

Erik’s hands slid down nonetheless, down below his waist and Charles struggled now to not press into his grip instinctively. “You would deny yourself, in that case.”

Charles wished Erik would not repeat his own reasoning back to him the way he did. He thought he was quite the terrible influence on the other man. “If necessary.” Still, he did not remove Erik’s hands or move to get away from him.

“Could we not try?” Erik asked, pressing close to him, the proximity immediately intoxicating. “If you begin to feel overwhelmed you could ask for me to cease and I would at once.”

Either answer he might give weighed heavily on Charles momentarily, but he knew within seconds that he could not keep himself from this forever and that perhaps it was time to stop being afraid. There were degrees of recklessness and he would simply need to learn them well. So he stepped closer to Erik yet and, clinging on as tightly as he could, reached up to realign their mouths.

It didn’t take long for Erik to transfer him from the soft light of the bathing room back to the darker cover of his bedroom where the sun had mounted the top of the castle and was mostly out of sight, leaving the space in its own sort of crimson twilight, far more comforting to Charles than the daylight could ever be.

There was little work to be done beyond discarding the towel and Erik was not nearly as patient as he had been the handful of previous times they had been together like this. Charles could not bring himself to mind in the least, equally as impatient now that he had cut himself loose somewhat. Erik set him down on the bed this time around and joined him soon after. Charles laid back eagerly enough, desperate to be reunited in flesh as well as in so many words.

However, it soon became clear to him that Erik was not truly interested in haste and that he planned more than anything else to abuse his new knowledge in order to drive him entirely mad after all.

“Erik,” he complained, splayed out on his back with his legs up partially due to his own placement earlier but more so because of how Erik was gripping at his thighs and keeping him in place.

He was far less concerned with how exposed he was—and he most certainly was, particularly after having Erik’s fingers pressed inside of him off and on for some time—and more with how he could feel Erik’s teeth pressing into the skin of his thighs. Erik was being clever with it, building up to this as he trailed down the length of his body, but Charles had at last caught onto it.

Erik spared him a glance, not seeming particularly caught. “Yes?”

“Is this what you consider being careful?” Charles demanded, breathless and beyond aroused and trying desperately not to let it distract him.

“I have been careful,” Erik said from where he was lain down between his legs, an image of which Charles thought he would never grow tired. “And you have not told me to stop. You said you enjoy this, did you not?” Erik pressed his teeth again into his skin, not nearly enough pressure to break it but not holding back.

Charles’s cock strained against his stomach obscenely at the sensation and he swallowed back a sound that threatened to well up from his chest. Enjoy was not the right word at all, far too weak an adjective to describe how it felt to Charles. “Yes,” he said anyway, too preoccupied to think of a more intelligent or apt one. “Yes, but it would be safer to not do it at all as that is what caused the problem in the first place.”

Erik did not seem convinced which was mildly infuriating. Instead he bent down to run his tongue over top of Charles’s entrance in a quick, thorough lick. Charles gasped, unable to stop himself. That too Erik had been wont to do, completely indecent about it, not deigning to warn Charles in the least before he started it. “If you wish me to stop, I will, as I said. Until then I am more than safely out of your immediate reach and want only to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

Charles supposed he had something like a point. Still, he did not get the chance to continue debating as Erik set about biting him again, over and over, pressing his teeth in, moving some, and beginning again, entirely relentless about it, all along the softer skin under his legs and down to his buttocks, so close to where his body had been coaxed loose and open. Charles groaned, unable to help himself, something wild unfurling within him, feral satisfaction at the sharp sensation causing him to press his teeth together hard and grip tightly at Erik’s hair.

When he supposed he could not stand it a second longer, writhing as best he could against Erik’s hold on his waist, Erik granted him mercy, pressing in to lick over him instead, his tongue slick and warm and soothing compared to the edge of his teeth. He kissed and sucked at the abused skin and particularly at the space in between, tireless in his ministrations. He continued on like that, alternating off and on until Charles lost track of time and himself.

At first he fought the feeling, pressed down against the arousal, wishing it not there for the reasons it was, but sooner than later he grew tired of it. It was much easier to let it feel as it did, bask in Erik tending to him—if it could be called tending—and attempt not to lose himself entirely. It was an immense relief to do so and Charles found himself delirious with pleasure soon after, entirely inundated with it, having opened up the floodgates for it and yet still longing for more. He stared up blearily at the ceiling and noticed that he had begun to let his legs rest on Erik’s shoulders where before he had been holding them up, not that Erik seemed bothered by it, his mind unable to keep track of anything more than how much he was feeling.

“Erik,” he called, hoping it might spur him into doing _some_ thing more. Charles was not sure what exactly, his mind beyond fragmented, all thought faded out and overpowered by the lush heat flooding through him, an entirely different sort of sunset alive within him, mirroring the one only beginning outside the window.

Erik stopped as he said he would which was infinitely worse than he could have imagined and he whined, too far gone to try to save face and press the back the needy sound. There was a hand on his cock suddenly, bringing starburst relief with it, and weight over him and a hand pulling his fingers away from his mouth where he’d been covering it for his own peace of mind. Charles forced himself to open his eyes and found Erik leaning over him, setting his hand back beside his head.

“Look at you,” Erik murmured before he was leaning down to kiss him deeply enough that Charles thought if he needed to breathe his lungs would be burning for air.

He tolerated it as best he could even as he attempted to push up against Erik and specifically where he could feel his arousal achingly close to his own. Charles felt that all the heat from the day must have been taken from the outside air as the light faded only to reappear between the two of them, living on into the night. He reached up to cling again to Erik’s back, wanting to keep hold of him.

Erik pulled back and pressed his face into Charles’s neck, inhaling deeply there and Charles thought perhaps he was not the only one who revealed himself in one way or another when in this state. He pressed his hands back below his legs, pressure up against the fresh marks he’d made, making Charles wince slightly although he did not want him to stop. They would soon fade away, his skin never holding onto anything for long, and so he appreciated the reminder while he had it, imagined Erik was pressing them in instead so he might keep them nonetheless, somewhere out of sight and only for himself.

“Are you alright?” Erik asked, his voice deep and rough in Charles’s ear like quiet rolls of thunder.

Alright had nothing to do with it, Charles thought, but he nodded nonetheless to put Erik at ease. It had been some time since he had last surrendered so entirely to that particular desire and for good reason. Erik gifting him fulfillment of it once more was nothing he could have imagined or hoped concretely for. Particularly after what had occurred because of it, this felt something like mending over a past wound, something like growth.

“It’s wonderful,” Charles admitted, unable to keep from telling him even as his voice was difficult to find and he knew his words would be inadequate. “Thank you, Erik.”

Erik pulled back, something like relief and surprise and fascination all fighting for space across his expression until all of them settled into a small curve of his lips that made Charles feel absurdly lucky. “I do not want you to feel shame over this,” he told him, his gaze quite intense, “or any other part of yourself.”

Charles swallowed, not having anticipated the response. So that was the purpose of this. The idea still made him anxious to think of, never again wanting to make such an egregious mistake, and unsure as the concept of enjoying this existence of his to any degree made guilt press up against him. Even so, he thought that perhaps over time he could find some middle ground between the complete abandon Erik offered and his own self-deprivation.

It was a thought for another time anyway. In the moment, he nodded, the understanding that Erik was doing this for him specifically sending a renewed thrill through him.

That seemed enough to appease Erik and when he leaned up for another kiss he received it, greater meanings dissolving into the pure need for this and the simple purpose of urging each other toward release. Erik was pressing more fully against Charles soon after, slotted neatly between his legs, asking permission. Once granted, he eased back inside of Charles, pressing him open more definitively, and Charles lost himself once more.

Erik wasted little time, thrusting into him with decisive speed and strength, for which Charles was immensely grateful, having been wanting this again from the first second he’d had it and knowing full well he would not have long to appreciate it this time around. Charles kept a hand over his mouth as before for the sake of his own reassurance and Erik did not move it other than to press intermittent kisses to his mouth, nosing beneath his fingers in order to manage it.

He kept Charles exquisitely full and unbearably empty in turn, pushing Charles to the brink with little to no effort. Admittedly, Charles did little to fight it, desperate to let slack all that had been tensing within him. He let Erik push him into it as easily as he pressed him down into the downy embrace of the bed.

Charles cried out, riding the predictable wave of his orgasm along, crest and then trough. Afterward he was more than content to lie back and burn with the continued friction inside of him, letting the overstimulation spark over his skin. In exchange he was graced by the sight and sounds of Erik letting go as well, so beautiful in the ripening colors of the sunset seeping into the room, seeking out his pleasure and at last finding its peak, spilling warm and wet inside of him. Charles moaned again, response to Erik’s own hoarse call of his name, squeezing tightly around his waist until he relented.

It was tempting as always to simply keep on, to try to keep Erik where he was and lean in for more, but Charles thought it best for now to let themselves breathe and settle. Some of his caution was returning to him and he wanted badly to show Erik and himself that he could keep a hold on himself when necessary. When he dropped his legs, Erik pulled back and collapsed down next to him, a heavy, warm presence tight up against his side despite of the emptiness of the rest of the bed. Charles was glad for it, happy to see Erik seek out contact when given the opportunity.

They were quiet afterward for some time, neither willing to get up or move from the bed, instead communing with careful touches or the occasional brush of lips, intimate and exploratory more than meaning to arouse. Charles thought that was just as well. He suspected, even despite Erik’s earlier pause to rest, both of them were tired. Sleep would be no visitor of his, but lying still next to Erik was comforting nonetheless.

Erik looked as if he might fall asleep at any moment. The lids of his eyes were heavy and he was letting the mattress take his weight, entirely relaxed. The auburn of his hair was splayed out across the pillow and there was still a lingering glow to his cheeks, and Charles thought he would never grow tired of such a sight, even if he saw it for all the rest of his days.

Despite that, Erik was keeping his eyes open, looking at Charles in return as if nervous he might disappear if only he let them close for a moment. The emotion in the cool blue of his eyes shifted now and again but there was a consistent softness to them, a warmth as he looked on.

Charles was a bit surprised to hear him speak, but after a stretch of time his voice rose up from the silence between them, quiet and familiar. “Is it true that…those like you live forever? Or is that simply another rumor?”

Charles couldn’t tell from his tone what answer he was expecting or which one he might want. He wondered if the nonchalance was purposeful or simply brought about by exhaustion. Something deep within his chest ached at the inquiry, not an old wound from years past but something sharp and fresh, a shock more than a dull throb. Charles supposed he knew it was there as his thoughts had tread that same path once or twice before.

Because of that he knew well enough that it was not a particularly forgiving road to venture down and he wished Erik had not brought it up so soon. Nonetheless he thought he ought to know better about trying to hide skeletons in closets after everything that had occurred between them. It would be better to broach the topic now rather than avoid it until it was too late.

So Charles moved to stir the encroaching darkness around them as well with his reply. “That is what I’ve been told,” he admitted, pressing his face into the safety of Erik’s chest. “There is no way to be certain, of course, but I met a fellow once who claimed to be beyond a hundred years of age.”

He thought he felt Erik nod and the arms around him shifted as if adjusting to the new knowledge. “I feel that might be a crueler curse than requiring blood alone for sustenance.”

Charles kept quiet, agreeing almost entirely with Erik and afraid because of it. He thought perhaps he’d had enough of being brave for one day. “Can we speak of something else?”

Erik moved back suddenly so their eyes could meet. He didn’t look particularly distressed despite the topic and Charles wondered how he was managing it. Surely he grasped the deeper meaning to all of this. “Why?” he asked, and Charles thought perhaps he didn’t.

“Because I do not wish to think about losing you again so soon after I’ve gotten you back,” Charles murmured, out with it quickly before he could stop himself, feeling his throat tighten involuntarily and ducking his head once more.

It was mere seconds before he felt himself being pulled back to Erik, the other man embracing him more tightly than before, undoing the distance between them easy as snuffing out a match. Charles couldn’t find it in himself to fight it, taking the negation for what it was and curling into Erik anew. He felt a warm hand run down the length of his spine, comforting and possessive at once. “I’m sorry. I did not think the question through fully, nor its implications.”

Charles sighed, not having meant to draw yet another unnecessary apology from him. “I know you meant no harm in it. It’s…something we would have needed to discuss at some point.” It seemed a bit soon to be pushing upon something so recently rebuilt but he didn’t mention it.

Erik took longer to answer this time and Charles thought he must be thinking seriously about it after all. The path of his hand remained sure and steady in the meantime and Charles pressed back against it, craving the reassurance it brought with it. “It’s not a truth I wish to think long on either,” he admitted eventually, “although I would rather know it than remain ignorant.”

Charles nodded, understanding well enough.

“I suspect there is little I could say now to reassure you fully, so I won’t waste time with petty, pretty phrases people tend to use when discussing death and the like. I do, however, want you to know that I do not plan to spend what time we do have worrying over this. It is far too valuable to throw away so carelessly,” Erik told him, speaking with more intensity than before. “If given a hundred chances in a hundred different lives to choose between staying by your side and parting due to the simple inevitability of mortality, I would choose the years with you, however many we may have, every time over.”

Charles felt that his efforts to keep from crying were entirely useless now. He almost wished Erik had replaced his shirt so that he wouldn’t be able to so easily feel the moisture against his chest, but he supposed it didn’t matter much if he was so worn down that every other thing that occurred brought tears to his eyes. The inevitability Erik spoke of still weighed heavily upon him and he thought that this would not be their last conversation on the topic, far from it, however he felt no urge to fight against it at that precise moment in time.

Erik was right, after all. Spending the present worrying about the future was a fool’s errand. Charles found he had nothing half-clever or eloquent to say in response to the declaration. It was enough to be content with the words, aware of their having been spoken into existence. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and simply nodded again, leaning fully once more against Erik.

“I think that was why I asked in the first place,” Erik added, kindly not mentioning his reticence nor his sniffling. He shifted as well, relaxing his hold on Charles into something more comfortable. Charles didn’t mind but he did bring an arm up to hold onto Erik in return, balancing it out rather than letting it be entirely. “I wanted to tell you something along those lines if it was true.”

“Lovely as it was,” Charles said, ignoring the roughness of his own voice, “I’d ask you to keep your thoughts on mortality to yourself for the remainder of the night. Both of us have done more than enough thinking for day. Any other declarations of eternal fidelity you wish to make will keep well enough until morning I think.”

Erik laughed, filling whatever space had been hollowed out in Charles’s chest by reality’s insistence on rearing its ugly head with no effort at all. “As you wish.”

Silence settled around them once more, a different sort of mutual release of tension, and Charles settled with it, regardless of the way Erik’s words were still flitting around inside his mind, thrilling and novel. Curled close to Erik, heedless that the night had not yet fully arrived and thinking of all that had passed, Charles did—miraculously, surreally—feel loved. It was a fragile feeling, lined with dubiety, shadowed somewhat by apprehension over the future, but he thought it might grow with time into something very powerful. He thought too that if Erik trusted in him, and in the two of them, that there was no reason he shouldn’t do the same.

**

“This is fascinating,” Charles said, pouring over yet another letter.

The floor of his study had become an avalanche of papers dug up from the depths of his desk and pulled free from his shelves, all congregating down below in a precise circle around where the other man was sitting cross-legged on the rug, seemingly uninterested in the rest of the furniture in the room. Erik leaned up against his desk, watching how intently he poured over the writings.

They had managed to drag themselves out of bed that morning after Charles had a turn asking questions and Erik had told him some about his childhood and the Brotherhood (and after the two of them had another turn or two amongst the sheets). Charles had wanted to see his research at last after wondering after it for some time and Erik could not help but want to show him. It was his work and he was proud of it, so the chance to show it off was not something to be squandered. Charles was eager over it when there was no real reason for him to be and Erik was glad to see it.

Still, a quiet weight pushed upon Erik’s shoulders even as he looked on, realizing that there were now complications with the offer he had been pondering. He was indescribably grateful to have Charles before him once more, real and smiling and _there_. It was not something he had allowed himself to fully imagine for some time, and even now it didn’t seem entirely possible. It would slowly sink in, he thought, and he would come to terms with there existing some source of good and happiness in his life, even as he continued to distrust himself somewhat with the ability to not again ruin it somehow.

But with Charles back again and not leaving for the foreseeable future, it did put him at a bit of an impasse concerning his recent meeting with Ororo and Logan. Part of him was willing to let the idea go immediately, not much attached to it in the first place, but the rest would not. There was some desire within him still to do as he said he would and leave the castle for some time, interact more directly with the organization.

Moreover, even with Charles’s return, Erik could not help but think that after some time both of them would grow restless here, trapped only within these walls forever. He had managed it for thirty-odd years but now even he was wishing to move on despite the numerous obstacles. He assumed that Charles would come to feel the same way in time and while it was a romantic notion that the two of them would simply never grow bored if they were together, he doubted it was wholly realistic or healthy.

He had considered briefly simply taking Charles with him, but with what justification? The only one that would draw no suspicion would be if Charles was a wolf like the rest of them, and it would be all but impossible to pull off. Erik also had no intention of asking Charles to lie about who he was yet again. He did not even know if Charles would _want_ to go with him, if there was some way they could manage it. But he wouldn’t hear of leaving Charles again, certainly not so soon.

It all left him thoroughly conflicted, the thoughts running circles in his mind and getting nowhere. Charles’s voice broke through the whirring of his thoughts, pulling him back into the room as if out of some deep, dark pool of water. “Hm, and what’s this one? _The Mating Habits of Werewolves_? Intriguing…”

Erik moved without thinking to join Charles on the floor so he could look at the paper himself. It was only another letter. Charles laughed at him fully, unlike Erik had heard in some time, for falling so easily for the trick.

Erik sighed and settled further next to him, moving to stack some of the papers back up and out of his way so he might not crush them.

“You seemed a million miles away from me,” Charles said, setting the decoy letter aside and turning toward him, “so I thought I must call you back somehow. You reacted so quickly— _is_ there something so scandalous amongst these notes of yours?”

There most likely was, but he did not wish for Charles to go digging for it which he most likely would, so Erik only hummed and remained silent otherwise, wishing he could be pulled along so easily into the lightness of Charles’s mood.

Charles clicked his tongue at him. “I declare you are no fun at all this morning.”

“No fun at all?” Erik demanded, turning back to him and raising his eyebrows.

Quickly enough he could see the same fresh memories in his mind running through Charles’s and the other man’s lips curled up. “Perhaps you were _some_ fun.”

Erik knocked their shoulders together, setting his fresh stack of papers aside. As always it was difficult to waste time thinking on serious matters when Charles was about, being a perfect distraction. The motion drew another smile from Charles and Erik collected it eagerly in his mind, having trivialized them far too much the first time around and determined not to make that mistake again.

“What are you thinking about?” Charles asked, leaning easily up against him as if pulled that way naturally.

Erik leaned back, willing to take the support and wondered at telling him so soon. It was a strangely dull day out, Erik noticed, glancing out the window behind his desk. Usually the sun would be out in full force by this time, but it was nowhere to be find, thoroughly hidden behind the grey cover of the sky. It was not the normal haze either which would dissipate easily enough with time like frost on a spring morning. If anything the sky was darkening, filling with some degree of shadow and weight. He wondered if it would rain at last and break the heat spell they’d been under for at least as long as Charles had been away from the castle.

He decided quickly enough that, for now, he would prefer to simply confess all that he could manage to Charles, or at least all that the other man was willing to take from him. It was not natural for him, but forcing it had done him good in the past. He exhaled slowly. “I received visitors a short while ago from the Brotherhood.”

That drew Charles’s attention easily enough from where it was still gathered mostly about the papers around them and he turned his body in toward Erik as if listening with his whole self, interest piqued. “Did you? What for? I never saw visitors when I was here.”

“It’s a yearly occurrence wherein they send some ambassadors my way to inquire if might like to leave this place and come aid them more directly.”

Charles nodded, understanding unfolding in his eyes. “I see. What would you help with there? It doesn’t seem as though your task requires proximity.”

“It doesn’t,” Erik admitted, “however they are always seeking aid as their primary function outside of simply creating a safer community is to teach new wolves how to function, more or less. More eyes to watch them, more hands to teach them.”

“So you would help the children…” Charles sounded thoughtful. “The more I hear of it the more I like this Brotherhood of yours. I could not imagine the gratitude I would have felt if such a place were to have taken me in and set me down a better path when I was first turned.” Darkness trailed the statement as it often did when Charles spoke of his earlier experiences as a vampire. Erik thought someday he must entreat the story from him so he might better understand it, but it was for a different time.

“I respect greatly what they do, although I do not think their insistence on holding new members in one place is particularly sound. It would be more natural to let the pups go once they’ve been taught well enough if they wish it,” Erik told him, letting the nickname slip without thinking.

“Pups?” Charles repeated, the smile back in his voice although it was not particularly mocking. He continued on easily enough when it did not draw much of a response from Erik other than thinking that this was the price one paid for being overly open. “You were thinking of the visit in that case?”

Erik nodded. “It was when you were not here, as you said, and while I normally refuse outright this time I said I would consider it,” he said, not wanting to beat around the bush.

“Oh.” Some of Charles’s weight disappeared from his shoulder and when Erik looked Charles was turned back away from him somewhat, looking out the window himself. His face was smooth enough but it looked like a purposeful cover. Whether it was preemptory or already necessary he knew not. “You want to go then?”

“I believe…part of me did, yes, or still does.” He reached over to squeeze at Charles’s knee, keep hold of him somehow so that this would not come across the wrong way. He had no intention of driving yet another stake between them so soon. “Now that you have returned however, the situation has changed and it hasn’t. My desire to accept stemmed from a restlessness that has grown stronger each year I’ve spent between the walls of this place, and I cannot help but think that you will know that same feeling over time if we remain here, stagnant.”

Charles looked down at the floor, thoughtful, his brow scrunched together. “I’m not so sure of that, but I understand you not wanting to be tied down here forever. I have often thought that there is no reason for you to remain as isolated as you do, and now I know for certain that it’s true.” He glanced up at Erik, apprehension dominating most of his expression. “What would happen? If you accepted.”

Erik squeezed tighter at Charles’s leg, thought idly that they must get him some new clothes so he would not be made to wear the same worn fabric over and over. Rain began to patter against the window, arriving at last to relieve the earth of its current season. Erik wished perhaps the weather would not be so incidental. The mood would be far less somber if it was bright outside as usual. “I would be made to leave this place and live with the Brotherhood, I suppose. It’s some distance away to the south even on a fast, well-rested horse.”

Again, Charles nodded and the silence stretched, dampened somewhat by the rain outside. It didn’t last long enough for Erik to say something of use, however. Charles was quicker than him as he often was.

“The last thing I want is to be a burden on you, or a tie,” he began, not quite looking at Erik. “There will be no living in the open with me, no true freedom. That’s the harsh truth of it. You should not have to be condemned to such a life, if one could call it that. If accepting the offer that has been made to you is something you truly want, you should consider it seriously and not toss it aside for my sake.”

Nothing had surprised Erik more upon their reunion than how harshly and constantly Charles railed against himself. He had criticized Erik for that very thing for so long that Erik could not imagine him ignoring so entirely his own words and advice, yet he seemed to do it often. It pained Erik to his core to see it, to watch Charles loathe what he had come to care for so deeply. The day previous he had done his best to be understanding of it, not so harsh in his dismissal over it, but now he didn’t feel like fighting back the anger that rose over hearing such a thing.

“You are no burden on me,” he stated as firmly as he could. The tone of it drew Charles back to him somewhat. “As long as I know you wish to stay by my side, there will be no life for me without you. There is nothing more to it than that. I want nothing more than to pull those hurtful thoughts from your mind and cast them out into the storm so that they might be washed away for good.”

Charles pressed his lips together, flicking his eyes down toward where Erik was still gripping his leg. “They are true whether you like them or not.”

Erik relented his hold, taking his back his hand, knowing he was being too forceful. “To some degree, yes. You must look after your own safety first and foremost, but you must also look after your own happiness. I will not stand for such insults against that which I love.”

That caused Charles to back down, relenting, for which Erik was glad as it meant he believed him somewhat. He bowed his head and when Erik bent to see his eyes, there was some fear there still which he knew he must take care of before anything else.

“There are other options. I merely told you of it because I wish to not hide things from you any longer. Above all else, I do not want to be apart from you.” Erik wished he could simply impart the feeling to Charles so that he would know without any doubt that it was true.

“I want that too,” Charles admitted and Erik was relieved to hear it. A petulant look strayed across his face, surprising considering the grave mood that had descended back over them, seeming loath to leave for very long. “You cannot keep using that as your argument to everything I say.”

Erik found a smile creeping back onto his own face despite everything. “Why not? It’s true.”

“It’s not fair,” Charles informed him, lifting his chin up.

Erik hummed dubiously at him, snaking an arm back around his waist.

“In addition, if you love me so much, you would simply allow me to win and be right always.”

Erik pressed his face into Charles’s neck, pulling them back together, easy as tightening a stitch. “Is that so?”

Charles’s arms came around him and Erik could feel the strength there where he couldn’t always see it. Charles’s touch was cool as ever, but that did little to take away from the comfort of the gesture. As unfamiliar as it was to be held after so long, Erik did not shy away from it.

“Thank you for telling me,” Charles told him after allowing the rain to speak its piece briefly without interruption. “The last thing I want is to discourage your honesty. It means a great deal to me.” He took a deeper breath. “You should continue to think about it if it’s something you want. Perhaps…you could spend some time there and some time here.”

Erik appreciated Charles’s maturity over things like this. It made him feel far less hesitant to speak as he had. He took his own breath in and out, inhaling some of the other man’s scent while he was there. “What would you do while I was gone?”

“I would find something. I’m fairly good at keeping busy with very little. There are surely some books about that I haven’t managed to get to yet,” Charles suggested. “Furthermore, someone needs to keep watch over the manor while you’re away.”

The last suggestion was what put Erik at ease somewhat, relaxing more fully into Charles. He was still unsure about all of this, unsure if he would be allowed to go back and forth or if he would want to. He was not particularly keen on leaving Charles so soon for an extended period of time, but the thought that he would be leaving the manor to him in his absence would certainly take some weight off of his chest.

Erik nodded. “I will think on it.”

The permission was more than he had expected even as it was most likely what he’d been seeking without meaning to. They were still discovering the nature of their relationship, hitting bumps and smoothing things over in turn, finding their balance after a fall. Erik trusted that they would be alright, would rediscover their footing soon enough, but such reassurance of Charles’s patience and kindness despite everything made it that much easier to do so.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're very nearly at the end now, so I thought I would pop in again to thank everyone who's been reading along. I hope that you've enjoyed the story and will like this little denouement as well! I'm also very grateful to those who've left lovely comments along the way - I've loved reading them! It always makes me smile to see people's thoughts and reactions.

The days passed slowly and all at once, specific moments stretching out long and the rest vanishing as if they had never been there in the first place. Late summer rains arrived in full force from nowhere, coming down until the land was oversaturated and Charles feared for the garden. He had obtained Erik’s permission to look after it again under the condition that he would not be paid for the task—“I have no desire to become a prostitute on technicality”—and he ran out into the muddy slop that was the yard to check on it whenever the downpour abated, much to Erik’s exasperation.

Despite the flooding and consequent drowning of some of the plants, Charles was glad for the sign that fall would be coming sooner than later as the heat continued to drop off. It had been a long, difficult summer and he thought the shift in seasons would do him good to see. Autumn was a season of change and as someone who was very much stuck in time, Charles appreciated it for what it was. He also appreciated the sun’s slow retreat for some months as he had to worry less about scalding himself accidentally when wandering around the castle without his cloak.

Moreover, the rains were incessant, yes, but they were cleansing as well and they brought with them a peace which Charles had not known before to be possible. He rarely strayed from Erik’s side—and certainly never from his bed—and he was not told to do otherwise. Charles thought it would abate some with time, but for now both them seemed discontent with being apart. Erik worked some with poor Mr. Summers venturing out to bring back letters for him to read and return, and Charles read them over his shoulder or settled in with a book if he meant to take a while. If Charles braved the marsh that was the garden Erik stayed and watched from the step, asking now and again about certain plants. So it was with almost all that they did each day.

There was awkwardness still between them now and again, but it was hardly noticeable, particularly as they spoke and learned more of each other. Charles stopped wondering at some point when all of this must end and instead began to think about where it would go. He was immensely happy, more so than he had been for so many years, and that too he was having to adjust to. Erik seemed similarly inclined, both of them caught up in a seemingly endless rainy-day romance, more than happy to use the excuse of the weather to lounge about more than was entirely necessary.

Despite that, there was some lingering restlessness to him and Charles supposed he knew the source. There were some unasked questions hanging about like drowsy insects, not overly bothersome but obvious if one was looking for them, and there was the fact that sooner than later the Brotherhood would want his answer. Charles caught him more and more often staring out at nothing in the distance and didn’t need to ask to know what was on his mind.

Charles wished he could ease his concern somehow, but felt that him bringing it up did the exact opposite. So it lurked in the background of their days like an encroaching shadow and Charles did his best to ignore it and allow Erik to think about it as he would on his own. The day would come soon enough one way or another and Charles felt as though they should enjoy the time between as best they could, at least for his own sake, lest Erik decided to go after all.

The idea made him anxious in many ways even as he knew that he couldn’t hold Erik back from that which he wished to accomplish in his life. As long as he did return, Charles supposed that some time was still much more than he had anticipated ever having.

All of this led Charles to think a return to the familiar might do them good. Consequently, one day when at last the rain gave in and allowed the sun some stretch of time to dry the ground and nourish the plants, leaving the evening mild and calm, Charles borrowed a blanket with the aid of the younger maid, Raven (who Charles had grown unexpectedly fond of and was glad to see again) and invited Erik outside with him. At first he was hesitant to follow Charles out but went easily enough once he found the ground to be far more solid than it had been in some time.

Charles sought out a spot somewhat hidden from view of the house and set the blanket there, sitting down and gesturing for Erik to join him.

He did, with only some resistance. “What is the purpose of this?” he asked, settling down next to Charles, the statement holding more amusement than anything else. They had taken to walking the grounds together again when they were able but they didn’t tend to stay along afterwards, so Charles supposed the questioning was valid.

He shrugged. “It is the first nice night in some time and I thought perhaps we should take advantage of it. Summer is drawing to a close, after all, and these warm nights won’t last.” He glanced up toward the spangled sky. “It’s always so clear after rain. One can see every star.” It reminded him of the secret clearing Erik had showed to him some time before. He had thought of heading there that night, however he had not wanted to return to the forest so soon, as beautiful as it was, so for tonight the garden would do, full of color and life unexpected so late into the season.

Erik looked up as well, leaning back on his hands. He had sat close enough to Charles so that their arms must press together and Charles marveled at far he’d come of his own volition. “I had missed them. The storm masked them for some time.”

Charles observed him more closely when he was not paying attention and was glad to find him relaxed for the most part. The small amount of light from the lantern he’d brought with them for the sake of them not being entirely in the dark flickered along his skin on and off and Charles felt eager to begin, as always with Erik. “Would you be interested in a game to pass the time?”

Erik turned back to him, cocking an eyebrow. “You are the one who brought us out here and now you wish to make the time pass? Or the game was your design all along.” Charles’s expression gave him away easily enough, particularly as he was not trying hard to hide it. Erik’s lips quirked up, some pride in discovery as always. “Ah, I see now. Very well. What did you have in mind?”

Something stirred in Charles at the easy acquiescence as it always did, but he pressed it aside for the time being. They would have time for it later. “It’s a game you know well. A sort of exchange.”

Understanding coalesced in Erik’s eyes quickly enough. Strangely, though, his expression remained dubious. “I thought us to be past the need for such restraints.”

“Of course,” Charles was quick to agree. “There is truly no toll for losing, unless you would create one. It only makes the conversation more amusing. Now I suspect it will be a game of wit more than an opportunity for purposeful discovery.”

Erik pondered that. “You would let me choose?”

Charles bit back a smile. “Yes, if you’d like.” He was interested enough to see what Erik might choose to not mind if he incurred some sort of punishment should he lose.

“Alright,” Erik agreed, holding out a hand for him to shake. “I will play.”

After completing the gesture and not returning his hand when it was meant to be finished, Charles asked, “What are the stakes?”

Erik hummed. “I will tell you at the end.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. We should know what we’re playing for. It would be more motivating.”

“The possibility of it being anything will make it even more so, in that case,” Erik suggested, looking too proud of himself already.

Charles huffed, running his nails lightly over the back of Erik’s palm, but did not object further. “Very well. The rest of the rules shall remain the same. Alternating questions, two passes each, if you are caught in a lie you will suffer the completely ambiguous consequences.”

Erik laughed at him. “That seems about right.”

Charles returned his smile, unable to help it. “Then we may start. Inquire away.”

He could almost see the quip over being allowed to go first this time cross Erik’s mind, but it went unvoiced as Erik’s expression grew more serious. After a stretch of time he reached to run his fingers lightly along the hem of Charles’s cloak, thrown on out of habit more than anything else, the dark blue of the fabric blending in with the night. “Will you tell me how this works? I’ve not yet got around to asking.”

“You are not asking permission,” Charles reminded him, amused by his unnecessary politeness. “I will either answer or I will not; I will be truthful or I will not. Ask it again. I have no interest in extraneous formality.”

Erik let out a breath, but he complied. “How does this cloak for yours function?”

Charles squeezed at his yet-captured hand encouragingly. “Better.” He was surprised by what a simple question it was. Perhaps Erik would work up to something more complicated. He supposed he hadn’t ever told anyone of the cloak before, and he supposed that trend must continue now. “Truthfully, I know not how it works. I know little of such things. I know only what it does in concept.”

Erik, for whatever reason, seemed displeased with his answer. “So we are to rely on semantics, are we?”

“I would suspect that to be the point of game which relies solely on language, yes,” Charles laughed. “I cannot be blamed for your own phrasing if my answer is honest. I do not know how precisely the cloak functions.”

Erik took his hand back to squeeze at Charles’s side. “Fine, you silly thing, take what you’ve earned and ask your question.”

Charles forced back some ticklishness at the touch and set about thinking. Erik had started out simple, not pressing too hard too quickly but Charles did not feel he could be so polite. Necessary or not he felt that, as before, he should use his questions wisely and not spend them on things he could ask any day.

“What’s it like?” Charles asked, hoping the question would not be too off-putting, general enough to be accepted. “When you transform, what’s it like?” Erik had, admittedly, not been so forthcoming with particulars as Charles had been forced to be and curiosity had festered inside of him because of it.

Erik blinked at him and sat up straighter, realizing perhaps that Charles did mean to play this game seriously rather than using it as a playful diversion as they sat together. His eyes drifted off toward the forest before them. There was some resistance still in his expression and posture, and Charles wondered if this game would end much quicker than expected. Ultimately, Erik proved him wrong, as he was prone to doing as of late.

“I cannot put the change into words that would do it justice. It’s something you grow used to over time, but not something which ever loses entirely the shock it carries with it inherently. It requires effort always. Afterward, it matters little, and the change back is nothing more than a blur,” Erik explained slowly, each of his words holding weight. “There is a reason I return exhausted.”

There he stopped which was frustrating for Charles had hoped to hear a bit more. Still, he knew his question had been vague and he supposed that would be the reply he’d hear if he were to object to the answer he’d been given. “Change is never simple,” Charles said, mostly to himself even if it drew a nod from Erik.

“Go ahead,” he said, impatient, when Erik did not immediately continue.

“What does your cloak _do_ ,” said Erik, leaning heavily on the correction, “if you would be so kind as to answer this time?”

Charles could not help but smile at the minor annoyance crowding his words together. “There you are.” He took the hem up himself, holding it up for no particular reason as it did not look special at any time, least of all in the dark. “As I understand, it acts as a block for the sun, not only where it covers my skin but within any shadow it might cast as well. Even ordinary clothing can only do so much if I’m out in it for some extended period of time, but if I wear this I know that I’m safe. I do not know how it works, only that it has never failed me and that without it…without it, I doubt I would still be here before you.”

Erik’s brow grew crumpled at the mention and he leaned closer to Charles. They were not at all in immediate danger of course, but Charles appreciated it, particularly the part of himself which had learned early on to remain alert at all times. There was immense comfort in knowing he was no longer alone in it.

Charles thought to give him more than he perhaps deserved after having teased him earlier and continued. It was partially to see the expression Erik always wore when Charles was generous with him which was mostly made up of quiet surprise. Love it as he might, Charles hoped with time it might dissipate, fading off into nothing with each time he tried it, as if slowly adding kindling to a fire to chase away darkness surrounding it.

For now, however, he enjoyed it, leaning more fully against Erik. “I think it must have some magical properties, but I doubt I will ever know for sure. It came into my possession many years ago during one of the few times I’ve stumbled across groups of those like me. I did not stay long with them and I took away only gratitude that the item was not some sort of hoax.”

“You bought it without knowing for certain?” Erik demanded, out of line as often as he had been the first time they had played, although Charles did not mind it as much now.

“The only thing I was certain of at that time was that I could not go out in the day any longer unless I wished my skin to burn within the hour. They charged less than what it’s worth in any case,” Charles told him. “But you must learn to wait your turn. Save your questions for they will keep. You’ve only to wait a short time before you might ask them.”

Erik sighed, but did not object further. “Perhaps you must learn to answer my questions in a way that gives closure instead.”

Charles laughed at him. “That is not the purpose of the game. Let me have my turn, sir. There will be apples on the trees before I’m allowed it at this pace.” Erik conceded with only a bit more grumbling beneath his breath and Charles pressed forth. “What’s it like when you’ve already transformed? I wonder how much you are aware of.” Erik did not seem to recall much of the night they had spent together in two separate forms and yet he had managed to find Charles while changed, and Charles wondered where the line was drawn.

There was realization building in Erik’s eyes that this would not be an hour of simple questions concerning taste and it made guilt rise somewhat in Charles. Still, he could not bring himself to regret this idea fully. Erik could stop whenever he wished it and the game gave an excuse for one to answer questions they might not otherwise.

“It’s blurry in my mind. There is another consciousness that comes over me and covers my own thoughts like foggy glass. I can peer through it now and again but it’s usually a fruitless task. I do have more awareness if I force the change as I did to find you, but not much more. It is an entire transformation of self and I am thoroughly trapped within that second skin until I turn back,” he explained, having before told Charles of the difference between natural and forced changes. There was anger below his words, ancient and quiet but there, and Charles thought perhaps he could understand it.

“I would not like to have my whole self taken for any period of time,” Charles murmured. “It’s all I have left, after all. I imagine it would not be pleasant to have autonomy ripped from you the way it is.”

“No,” Erik said, “it’s not.” His shortness said enough.

The other man had tensed considerably beside Charles. He wondered again at the rules of this world where some were simply allowed to live and for others there were conditions. He could not muster any anger for his own situation, but for Erik it was there, irritation at injustice somewhere within him like the telling rush of a waterfall at the end of a peaceful stream.

Charles leaned up to kiss carefully at Erik’s collarbone, exposed somewhat by the open state of his collar. He was exceedingly careful with that space (though he couldn’t see where he had bit Erik, the skin healed over well, he thought often that he could feel exactly where it was) and it was only the other lack of available skin that led him to do it. Erik did not flinch back from him, although he seemed surprised by the contact. It didn’t last long for soon he was turning and seeking out a true kiss which Charles provided easily enough, pressing his palm gently to Erik’s jaw.

As difficult as it could be, Charles had found that trading truths, confessing that which had been buried and kept watch over alone for so long could be immensely healing. Something about letting it go from within oneself and out into the open air of the world made it seem less suffocating and more manageable. There was also something to be said for sharing the burden, of course. He still did not believe he had much to offer Erik, but at least he could give this. At the least he could inquire and listen and comfort, and know that even in the way a small, single seed falling to the ground might someday benefit a forest he was doing some good.

Erik pulled back but remained close and Charles found there was something equal parts anxious and determined in his eyes. His hand was being taken again, held fast, and he thought that Erik must be finished with pulling his own punches. “I know I ask for a great deal when I inquire this of you and you have no obligation to answer, within or without this game of ours, but I believe it would help me to understand a great deal of you if you would.”

Charles thought he knew of what Erik spoke. Something inside him seized at even the reference and he fought it back. He nodded for Erik’s sake and he continued on.

“Would you tell me of this?” Erik ran his thumb gently over the scar on his neck. He had always been so careful of it, even when he did not know what it was and even now that he did and it made something inside of Charles ache.

He had been making preparations for this for some time, knowing he must eventually speak of it even after having kept it to himself for upwards of thirty years. Unfortunately he doubted that anything would ready him fully for the telling of that story. Part of him shrank back even now, desperate to refuse and move on. He knew Erik would not judge him too harshly for it. There would be other times.

But he knew he must be brave. What had occurred had taken its toll well enough already. There was nothing more it could do to him. He insisted it to himself again and again, and heard himself say, “Very well.”

Erik’s arm came around his shoulders and Charles appreciated the anchor. He also appreciated Erik’s silence, allowing him to speak without interruption. He took a deep breath and sought to purge himself of this for the first time. “It was my own fault in many ways. I was young and foolish and thought myself brave, and I paid the price for it I suppose.

“There’s not much to it, I’m afraid. Nothing particularly exciting. I was…invited out by some other young men in my town who bid me come drinking with them. That alone was unusual for I was not particularly well-liked, especially by men near my age.” He thought Erik would take his point without much further explanation. “Still, I went with them for I was lonely and rarely had the opportunity to do something so ordinary.

“They were amiable enough and did not shy back from me. We did go drinking late into the night, far later than we should have been out, and at some point started up a daring game. It was silly things at first. We demanded that someone climb up onto the bar and sing a tune, or that someone drink a pint as quickly as possible. The other boys demanded tales of sexual experience from one another, although I was excused from that particular line of questioning, strangely.” Charles coughed out a laugh in an attempt to soften that blow, still heavy even years later, but Erik was not laughing and so he thought it best to continue on, get it done with.

“They got more dangerous quickly, particularly after we were sent back outside into the night by the owner who had grown tired of us. It was already unsafe as there had been tales of injuries and disappearances in the village as of late, particularly after sunset, but the challenges grew more rigorous as well. When it came my turn again, they demanded that I walk a particularly dark, secluded path on the outskirts of the town alone and return when I was finished.”

Erik’s fingers tightened on his arm and Charles hurried to qualify some of what he’d said. “I do not believe they meant for this to happen. I doubt completely that they knew what they were actually asking me to do. Perhaps they meant to intimidate me, demonstrate some power over me by asking me to go off and do my task on my own when no one else had such a thing asked of them, or to see if I would refuse, but it was nothing more than moderately clever bullying.

“And I could have refused,” Charles pointed out, hating this part most of all. He hoped that had he been older and wiser he would have, knowing that the approval of those men meant nothing at all to him, or was certainly not worth the price he paid trying to obtain it. “But I was far too proud for it. I knew it was what they expected and as such I fell directly into the trap laid out for me. I agreed and some of the surprise I saw made me even more foolish. I was taken to the path and set on my way while the rest stayed guard at the entrance. One way out, one way in, unless you wished to brave the forest. Perhaps that would have been safer.

“I was not careful in the least as I walked, did not try to be clandestine and…” Charles swallowed around the fear in his throat that rose still when he thought of it. To think how easy it was, how quickly it had happened, and how preventable it had been. He could remember so clearly how dark the night was, how something had seemed off, the feeling of being watched, not so unfamiliar to him but far more unsettling when the attention came from some unknown threat. “…and as I went I was attacked. You know well enough how quickly the venom takes hold and how little can be done afterward. I didn’t see their face and they left almost as soon as it was done.”

“Why?” Erik demanded and Charles was strangely glad for the reminder of his presence beside him, drawing him back out of that dark memory, for that was all it was. “Why did they leave you?”

“I don’t know,” Charles admitted. The question had haunted him for many years, still did, but he’d more or less come to terms with the fact that he would never know the answer. Such was the way of life, for better or worse. Knowledge was a privilege not always granted. “I believe they went off quickly to stop themselves from finishing me off. They were turning people in the village purposefully, though to what end I also know not. People would turn up missing but their bodies were never found. I knew soon enough why. I suppose in the end it doesn’t matter. It was done. Mostly I remember lying alone there on the ground until morning suspended in some awful, painful state. I wondered why I would not simply die or if that _was_ death. Perhaps I was being punished after all.”

“Charles.” Fingers were wiping at his cheeks so carefully even as there was fury in Erik’s eyes when Charles caught sight of them. He supposed he was glad Erik could feel it for him. His own anger had died out many years ago, leaving behind it only something frighteningly hollow and heavy. “They did not come looking for you, the other boys,” Erik said after a moment. It was not a question.

Charles bowed his head and wished he didn’t care, wished he didn’t feel as though his chest were collapsing in each time he thought of it. _Not even one of them? Not a single one was even curious?_

But no one came, not that night and not the day after when Charles woke up to find himself half-crazed with hunger and burning already in the sun. It was easier for everyone to be rid of him. “No,” he forced himself to say. “They did not. I ran off soon after. My mother had passed away by that time and her family rejected my father. We were carrying on with the bakery as best we could, but feeding even two mouths was difficult. Even if my father missed me, I knew I could not go near him or anyone else I cared about again. It was all I could do.”

Charles wiped at his eyes, feeling like someone had emptied him of all of his organs and then left the empty space alone to rot. It was less the story itself than the reliving the realization of what had happened that did it. He jolted when Erik put his hands on his arms at first but gave in soon after, allowing himself to pulled into Erik’s embrace and held there. He settled heavily against him and cried into the collar of his shirt.

“There is nothing I could say to right the wrongs done to you,” Erik told him, his voice a familiar rumble between the two of them. “You did not deserve this.”

Charles wasn’t so sure. He had always been different, an uncomfortable reminder to those around him that things were not always so simple and binary as the words in a holy book might make them out to be. This was more an augmentation of that than anything else. At least, that was the way he used to think.

Now, with Erik holding him, after everything that had happened, he was becoming less sure. It was a small step, but he thought for once it might be in the correct direction.

“You did _not_ deserve this,” Erik repeated as if sensing his uncertainty. He pulled him back so that he could look at him and Charles was surprised by the strength of the resolve on his face. “This you must assure me you know.”

Again Charles wavered, but he did not want to disobey Erik when he looked as though he was prepared to stake his life on the declaration. Still, he thought truth must come first. “I would like to, Erik, but for me it is not so simple.” _If what you say is true then why?_ he thought to himself, uselessly as every other time he’d thought it. _Why did this happen?_ Even though he knew he sounded pathetic, he could not help but voice the words aloud as well.

Erik’s face grew darker at once. He pulled Charles back to him and took an unsteady breath. “That I do not know. This world cares little for logic or purpose. It is in our nature to strive to gift it both, but I have come to believe that the latter is the best we can do.” He rubbed at Charles’s back as he spoke and Charles wished that he would never stop. “What’s done is done. You cannot change that truth and neither can I. Such is the way of the past. But you may choose your future now and the mark you leave on this world.

“If it were me and I had the opportunity, I would rip everyone who harmed you to shreds,” Erik snarled and there was a part of Charles, a bit more vindictive than the rest, which was glad to hear it. “but that is not your way and you are better for it.” Another pause. “You are like my mother in some ways, particularly in the kindness you keep in your heart despite how desperately others have tried to rip it from you. I’m not her, but I believe I know the advice she would give to you were she here now, and I believe it will do you better than mine. To continue to punish yourself over this seems to me what they and everyone like them would want. To live, however, despite everything, to be kind as you are, and to help others is the greatest rebellion. Already you have done so for me.”

Charles clung harder to Erik as he spoke and took the words to heart as best he could. He couldn’t believe that Erik could not see his own kindness even now—it was something to work on, he supposed—but he knew there was otherwise truth to what he spoke. He considered the advice and felt some pressure lift off of him, relief like the rains after oppressive, lifeless heat, and he thought that perhaps he was not so empty after all.

He pulled back again from Erik’s mess of a shirt so he might look at him properly as he spoke. “I will do my utmost to hold those words with me always. However, I cannot help but insist that you must also take them to heart. You must stop speaking of yourself as though you are any different. There is immense kindness in you Erik, which you have shown to me again and again even when there was no reason at all for you to do so.”

Erik looked a little as though he’d been caught doing something he knew better than to do. Still, there was denial in his eyes, something argumentative about the set of his mouth. Charles reached up to take his face in his hands, hold him there as if he could press the belief into his skin.

“I ask only that you not push yourself down while attempting to lift me up. Although I have much left to learn, I know your life has been no better than mine in many ways, and try as you might to hide it still within you is a great deal of good. Already in the time I’ve known you have changed and grown because of your own strength.” Charles took a breath, prepared to take a risk. “It might be presumptuous to say, as I never had the privilege of meeting her, but I cannot help but feel that your mother would be so proud of you and that she would not want you saying differently.”

That broke something in Erik, whatever dubious shield he’d been holding up crumbling at her invocation and he leaned into Charles, letting him take his weight where before he had been handling it himself. He took a shaky breath and managed a nod.

Charles couldn’t help but smile, setting his chin on Erik’s shoulder. He was proud of Erik as well, amazed by him in many ways, but he thought those would be words for a later time. Instead he pressed a kiss against Erik’s temple and let him be for a stretch of time.

The night was not at all silent and filled the space easily enough with the rustle of leaves and the sound of insects buzzing about. The wind whispered by and the trees shifted idly and Charles was aware that all around them there was life and that they were a part of it. A strange part, perhaps, but a part nonetheless. Breathing in the fresh, midnight air, Charles was grateful for the reminder that there was good in this world as well if one stopped to listen for it.

In time Erik gathered himself, his heart steadying back to its usual, faithful beat and he laid down, pulling Charles along with him until they were stretched out on the blanket. Charles could see the ring of light from the lantern set off to the side stretching out along the ground as if encapsulating them within its rays. Between it and the rise and fall of Erik’s chest Charles felt oddly at peace. He had been restless most of his life out of necessity and it had become a habit, but at last he felt he was ridding himself of that unnatural need. This was a place he could stay, where he was welcome and wanted. This was a place to begin again.

There were many things he wanted to say to Erik, words of gratitude and affection, but he thought they might sound forced or would not be enough at all to express what he felt within himself. So he kept them for himself for now, pressing his cheek against Erik’s heart and hoping that he might understand regardless of spoken language.

“Thank you for telling me,” Erik said, quieter than before. “There is no easy way to relive such a memory.”

“I’m glad to have told someone of it nonetheless,” Charles assured him. “More importantly, I’m glad to have told you.”

Erik’s grip on him grew somewhat tighter and Charles reveled in the feeling. “It feels strange to continue our game now,” he admitted.

Charles thought he had a point, and yet: “Perhaps to you. You have had your question answered satisfactorily while I have many yet to go.” Charles had another thought which he voiced for the sake of lightening the conversation some. “Is there some reason you suddenly seem impatient to finish up?”

Erik took the bait easily enough, shifting below him and rolling them over so Charles was flat on his back with Erik over him. Charles reached up to grip onto the swell of muscle in his arms, unable to help how impressed he was by how easily he did such a thing. Erik didn’t leave any space between them, lowering some of his weight down onto Charles for the sake of keeping pressure between their skin. Charles shifted below him, unable to help himself. He wondered if he would ever grow tired of this or if Erik would forever have this power over him, causing arousal to stir within him easy as striking a match.

“Is that your question?” Erik asked. Charles didn’t see, even if it was, why he would insist upon it now, seeing as the hunger he saw now in Erik’s eyes was answer enough.

Charles shuddered. There was something thrilling about being in this position out in the open. Nerve-wracking as well, but mostly the former. There was indulgence in refusing to hide. “I suppose not, seeing how I believe I already know the answer.”

Erik kissed him, pressing down against him with intent, slipping the warmth of his tongue between his lips. Charles clung to him and seriously reconsidered his stance on not simply calling it a night and heading in after all. Still, he had found that resistance, some patience could do a world of good for them later if they managed it, and his mind was insisting that he was not yet finished here.

When he did not continue on as he normally would, moving his hands and the like, Erik appeared to understand that he was serious and pulled back, settling down half on top of him, half on the blanket, abating for now. “What did you want to ask?”

Erik was rather good at hiding things with his tone of voice, but tonight there was a bit of disappointment there, honesty shining through. Charles bit back a smile, not meaning to be sadistic, but strangely gleeful to see the shift in Erik from holding back at all costs to this. He knew he should use his questions wisely for he could only hold them there for so much longer. “What was the purpose of your insistence to me early on that you’re dangerous?” After a silent moment, Charles thought he should extrapolate. “I ask only because I have since interacted with you after you’ve changed and even then you did not seem particularly inclined to harm me.”

Fingers began to draw invisible figures on his chest while he awaited Erik’s answer. The question had been eating at him somewhat. He thought maybe it was for Erik’s own safety, like animals which imitated bright colors as if to warn at being poisonous when they were entirely safe to consume, warning to avoid discovery even if it was not true. Or perhaps there was more to it.

“That is because,” Erik said, quiet and slow again, “you are the exception rather than the rule. You did not intercept me during a true change, but during a forced one. While it’s not much, I have a great deal more control with the latter. I was able to recognize your scent in that form because it was so familiar to me, and as a result you went unharmed.”

“I see.”

“There’s a reason I go far out into the woods, far from this place or anyone I might meet along the path on the night of a full moon. There is no real control in those times and it’s not uncommon for wolves to attack any animal they come across, including humans. There is…a recklessness that comes with that one night a month which can make us prone to violence.” Erik pressed his hand flat against Charles’s chest and turned to glance up at him. “My warning was not unnecessary. Your experience was far from normal, and for that I am intensely grateful. There is a high chance that, had we crossed paths that way some weeks before it would not have ended well.”

Charles remembered the rabbit, as well as the scars he saw often on Erik’s body, covering the skin in some unreadable pattern and believed him. “I understand,” he said.

“It’s still dangerous now,” Erik pointed out, voice darker than before.

“And having me about isn’t?” Charles demanded, not interested in entertaining that line of conversation at the moment. He raised an eyebrow at Erik. “I believe at this point both of us are past weighing risks.”

(Charles did not believe that Erik would ever hurt him, even if he did come across him on a natural change. He had no plans to test out his theory, but he didn’t see if he had been recognized once why he would not be recognized again.)

Erik ducked his head back down, conceding. “Yes, that’s true.”

Charles ran a steadying hand down his back and waited for the next question to come, turning the answers he’d already received in his mind meanwhile. Clouds had yet to sweep in overhead, leaving the sky spectacularly clear. He thought he would be more than happy to spend the rest of the night exactly like this, Erik’s warmth and weight on him, tracing out patterns in the stars with his eyes.

“Was it common for you to do as you did with me?” Erik asked, words rising up into the air after he let them go. “To find a place to stay and seek out work? It does not seem to match up with what I know of the rest of your life.”

Charles pressed his lips together, not having expected this so soon, if ever. He had rather hoped Erik might leave it be and not ask, for it was not so important. He had told him already that he tended to wander about for the most part, hoping that would be enough. He supposed he could pass it by, but he worried at the suspicion that would draw.

He didn’t have much shame over this, but he did worry about Erik’s reaction. He was allowing the silence to stretch for too long and he knew that would change how his answer came across, so he hurried to bring it to a halt. “No, it was not common,” he said, searching for the right words. “If I answer further, you must promise not to judge me too harshly.”

Erik looked surprised but he nodded slowly. “Very well.”

Charles took a breath and turned back up to the stars, far less concerned about their reaction. They had known him long enough for it to be minor at best. “I did not often look for work as it required I stay in one place for some amount of time and I disliked the idea of being shackled somewhere if it became necessary that I leave with haste. The rest however was more common.”

It was clear Erik didn’t see his point, and so he went on. “I lived a lonely life as you know even as I longed for companionship, and so I took what I could get. It was not…overly difficult to find a soul here or there willing to take me in briefly and spend the night in my company.”

Comprehension was clearing on Erik’s face and again Charles thought he should not feel guilty for it, particularly when it all seemed rather superficial now. He knew why he had done it, why it was safest to find a companion willing to toss aside their morals for one night and then see him gone the next day, having had their fun with him and ready to move on.

“The heavy rain chased me inside,” Charles continued, explaining more than he should but unable to help it when Erik was being so quiet, “and I’m practiced enough to play at being a human for one night that I knew it would be alright. Once inside though I saw how you looked at me and thought you might be interested in such an arrangement.”

Erik took a breath. “It’s not as though you were incorrect in your thinking.” He moved somewhat, pushing up on an elbow so they might better see each other. His expression refused to settle in any one place, making it difficult to read. “These men you speak of, they were willing to be rid of you so quickly?”

Charles couldn’t help his laugh. It seemed Erik had not spent much time in the company of other men. “Of course. I was offering them a night, not a lifetime, and that was understood well enough. It was always dangerous, but it was a fair trade. Brief companionship for the indulgence of a forbidden desire.”

There was scrutiny in Erik’s gaze but it was not overly present. Charles thought he must understand somewhat the need for such interactions. It wasn’t as though Charles did not know how he looked, how he came off. He had been turned young and although the years had passed, he didn’t age in any way that was visible. It was a rather easy task to accomplish, being enough of a temptation to convince partners to risk it for him, once he tried it out a few times.

“I see now why you came after me so quickly the way that you did,” Erik murmured, almost thoughtful. “I assumed it to be youth but I see now it was a strategy.”

“Yes,” Charles agreed. Things had quickly shifted, but it was his initial purpose for staying. “Are you upset with me?” He thought he shouldn’t ask so bluntly but he didn’t want to introduce this tension without relieving it soon after.

Erik frowned. “Only superficially, but I understand well enough how the need for contact grows in a life where one’s interaction with others is minimal. I did the same now and again when I was younger.”

 _Interesting_. Charles would not have thought it of him, but was glad for the empathy. “It was the most impersonal way I could think to achieve such a thing for I could never risk staying long, for both of our sakes. That’s why things so quickly did not go to plan with you. From early on there was absolutely nothing impersonal about it.”

That caused some of the tension in Erik to dissipate for which Charles was glad. He stroked a hand slowly down his side, appreciatory, and Erik shifted against him, catching his eyes. “The last thing I wish to do is to be controlling over you. Your past is yours, as is your future. I want only to be a part of your life, not to attempt to take it for myself.”

There was something there, Charles thought, deeper than some moral belief of his, hiding behind the sincerity that was in his eyes and the steadiness of his words and Charles could not help but inquire after it.

Something darker came across Erik’s face even as the light around them remained the same. “There’s a reason my mother took me far away from my father when I was very young to a home he knew nothing about as it was in her family’s name even as it had sat abandoned for many years before. I do not want to give that as another cause to run from me.”

He didn’t explain further but Charles thought he understood well enough. He squeezed at the other man’s shoulder as the two of them again settled into their new knowledge. It was not easy work, clearing out skeletons from closets and putting them on display for the other to look over, but it was more than worth it. There was some phantom weight Charles had felt on him even as happy as he had been these past days that was slowly being lifted the more he knew. He had always thought sharing secrets with the night helped bring him some relief, and while it was present for this mock-confessional, Charles knew it was not doing much of the work this time around. He hoped that Erik felt the same.

“What would you have done with yourself if you could have done anything in the world?” Charles asked, thinking that this conversation must come to an end sooner than later lest they wear themselves out entirely and he would prefer to end it on a sweeter note, sugar chasing bitter medicine or something like that. “If you were not born as you were.”

Erik was caught off-guard by the question and it took him some time to answer. “I haven’t thought much of it, but I think I would travel. Some days I want nothing more than to jump on a boat going anywhere and leave this place. I hate to think I will die not having seen hardly any of the world. I would like to learn a skill first as well, something useful, something to make use of my hands. That way I might earn a living as I go.”

Charles ached to hear the yearning in his voice. He said he hadn’t thought much on it, but Charles wasn’t sure that was true. “You stay for the manor?” Charles asked.

Erik nodded. “And because this life requires some manner of routine and forethought. I do not wish to travel through only wilderness, but through cities. “

 _It must still be possible_ , Charles thought even as he took Erik’s meaning. It would be difficult to be stuck in a metropolitan area at the wrong time. It would take only one mistake for it to be dangerous, and where there was one city there as often more. Nonetheless, if he could occasionally walk the streets of a town unnoticed than it would be true for Erik as well.

He saved the thought for later. It would give him another project to work on outside of the garden. He could help Erik to see that he was not so trapped in this place as he thought. Perhaps it would make him less anxious to leave entirely if he knew the possibility existed.

Charles almost sighed at himself. Back around to that topic as always. He had been avoiding it, not interested in using this conversation as a vehicle to push some answer out of Erik concerning the offer, but now here it was back again and Charles did not want to think of it.

He thought that the night was growing long, the darkness encompassing the distant trees and the flowers and plants all around them, as if focusing in only on where the two of them lay protected by the halo of the lantern. It would mean throwing the game, most likely, but he doubted there was much point to it anymore either way. Both of them were willing to speak of uncomfortable topics for the sake of building trust. He was also interested to see what Erik would punish him with.

Fortunately for him Erik’s following question was not overly difficult and his fabrication did not have to be too grand. “Did it make you uncomfortable to answer my previous question? You hesitated for some time and I thought you must pass.”

Charles paused again for the sake of being authentic. He did need Erik to catch him in the lie. “No,” he said, which was not entirely true in and of itself. “After all I only answered in an attempt to make you jealous.”

It worked well enough, catching Erik’s attention at once. He sat up slightly, leaning over Charles rather than lying on top of him and fixed him with an incredulous look. Charles forced back any expression that might give him away by focusing on how handsome he looked, and younger, less tired like this with his hair ruffled from laying down, his eyes lively as his mind worked, his skin lit up by the golden light diffusing around them.

“I do not believe you,” he eventually declared, certainty sharpening his gaze. “I think you only mean to get a rise from me.”

Charles glanced off to the side, his smile breaking free despite his hold on it.

Erik returned it, reaching up to tilt his head so they were facing each other once more. “Are you lying to me, Charles? Despite knowing full well the consequences?”

“I may have been lying but I know nothing of the consequences,” Charles pointed out, “if you’ll recall.”

Erik leaned down so they were closer once more but stopped before any true contact could be made. “That is true enough. I suppose you would like me to tell you of them now.”

Charles nodded, half inclined to lean up and close the distance himself, although he stayed put. He rather wanted Erik to lead them along that night, having taken on that duty for the first half of it. He loved how simple this was, how easily they fell back into intimacy. There was something to be said as well for taking the time to speak and listen, and then consummate that more esoteric closeness with something physical. It was not a pattern he thought he would soon grow tired of.

Erik remained where he was for the moment, brushing over him until their eyes met. “I fear you expect something creative from me, but truthfully I had no intention of designing a specific form of reprimand. The game is an interesting enough vehicle for conversation—particularly if either of us were willing to play it properly—however, I believe we are past the need for such false displays of power. If we are to discuss serious matters which require great effort to present, then I don’t wish to devalue them as points toward an arbitrary loss or victory.”

Charles was surprised by his answer (and perhaps a bit disappointed if he was honest). Still, he thought he understood Erik’s purpose in giving it and was grateful for it. It would be better not to make light of such topics, he knew. Better to give them the weight they deserved. This was Erik being respectful of both of their pasts, evident enough in the solemn tone of his voice.

Unfortunately for him, Charles was not particularly interested in the past any longer. It would take time to shake free of its grip entirely, but he would rather not give it more power than it deserved. Even the stars in the sky shifted, and more and more after nights and conversations like this one he thought he could no longer stand to be so stagnant.

He stretched out further than before, putting his arms up over his head, relaxing more fully onto the blanket below him. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I feel I must remind you that all punishments need not be so grim. You must know I lost purposefully, do you not?”

Erik blinked at him and Charles thought perhaps he had not known, too caught up in it all to pay such close attention. Still, he had made his point and Erik’s face softened. He ran a considering hand down Charles’s side and Charles was glad to see that they were again of the same mind. “Is that so?”

As much as he was referring to the admission, Charles couldn’t help but feel there was a hidden layer to it as well, could almost see it in Erik’s eyes. _Is this okay?_ Permission to move on, to go ahead, seeking for understanding and agreement so that neither would have to do so alone.

Charles smiled coyly at him. “Yes.” He knew what he wanted, and while the night air was sweet and the flowers beautiful company, he was more than ready to head back inside.

Erik’s lips turned up in response, and something playful and so wonderfully full of life ignited in his eyes which Charles had had the privilege of witnessing a few times before and adored more each time. “I cannot argue that there may be need for reprimand after all.” He got to his feet without warning, moving to stand over Charles. “In that case I think it would be in your best interest to hurry and wait for me inside.”

Heat rushed through Charles at the promise of things to come lying heavy in those words. He did not spend further time considering consequences or asking questions, only rolled eagerly over so he might more easily get to his feet and headed off toward the door, knowing well enough that Erik would be right behind him.

**

Erik sighed to himself. It seemed nothing could truly be put off forever, no matter how much he attempted to avoid it.

He glared down at the letter on his desk, informing him that he would, within the week, have visitors from the Brotherhood who would require an answer regarding their most recent request that he join their ranks properly, an answer which he still did not have despite having struggled with it for almost a month. He had done a bang-up job distracting himself with other, more interesting matters, but now his time had run out and he still couldn’t find within himself a solid answer.

He wondered that he used to consider himself responsible and not one to beat around bushes, for that person was entirely absent now when he was most needed. Erik sighed again, continuing to crowd the room with his breaths and glanced out the window. The weather had grown much milder as of late which Erik appreciated greatly. Still, the nights were not yet cool enough to chase all the life from the garden and so it lived on below, extremely well cared for.

Its caretaker was nowhere to be found at the moment which was, admittedly, Erik’s fault. The heart of the matter was he had a few days more to think on things and so he did not feel much like being responsible at that precise moment. He knew it was childish but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There were many other far more productive things he could be doing that were not agonizing over such an insignificant issue.

“You called for me?” Charles asked, pulling him from his irritation. He was poking his head around the doorframe, not yet in the room.

Relief unfurled in his chest as it often did when he saw Charles again, even after only a brief separation. “Yes, I did. You can come in. Shut the door behind you.”

Charles sent him a questioning glance but did as he was told, approaching Erik when he was finished.

“Come here,” Erik beckoned and Charles went, moving across the room until he was standing in front of him, caging him in somewhat against his desk.

“Is something wrong?” Charles asked, eyebrows drawing together in worry all at once.

“No,” Erik reassured him quickly. “I simply have…a favor to ask of you.”

It was still not so easy for Erik to ask for such things directly. It didn’t come as naturally to him as it seemed to for Charles and he much preferred simply hinting at what he wanted as, in most instances, Charles knew him well enough to catch on. Still, this had been an itch in his mind for a few days now and he thought he could use it as an excuse to procrastinate further if nothing else.

“Alright,” Charles said, eyes searching him as if he still expected something strange to occur. “What did you need? I’ll help if I can.”

Erik steeled his nerves, clutching tightly at the need he felt stirring inside of himself and leaned back further against the desk, opening his legs where before he’d had them crossed at the ankle. He forced himself to look up at Charles whose eyes were noticeably lower. That was more than enough to have the full, undivided attention of his steadily growing arousal. “A distraction,” Erik told him, wishing that Charles would come closer to him already.

He did not have to wait long. Slowly but surely, Charles stepped nearer, moving until he was pressing between Erik’s legs, easing him back further to sit fully on the desk. He set his hands on Erik’s thighs and squeezed there, grasping tighter than usual. Erik felt his heart speed up accordingly in anticipation of asking and receiving.

Charles leaned in further, crowding him, and Erik gripped the back edge of the desk to hold himself steady. He paused when his lips were just beneath Erik’s ear. “Distraction from what?”

Erik let out a frustrated breath. He pondered refusing to tell him, but he thought this would be easier if he simply admitted to it first and indulged himself afterward. He was sitting directly on the evidence, after all. He retrieved the letter and held it out to Charles silently.

Charles didn’t move from where he was standing, only tilted back somewhat so he could read it. A few lines in and he seemed to understand for he set it aside immediately after, comprehension on his face as well as the resignation he often wore when the topic arose. He wondered if Charles might question him further over this, might insist they wait until later—Erik burned at the thought as his uncertainty that he _could_ wait that long had caused all of this in the first place—and take care of this now, but he did not.

He only leaned back in to press a kiss against Erik’s jaw and asked, “In that case, will you show me what exactly it is you want? I’d be happy to oblige as best I can.”

Erik happily did so, fumbling for a drawer, pushing further into Charles by necessity, and pulling out the vial of oil he had stashed there earlier that day, pressing it firmly into Charles’s hand. He struggled not to drop it, irrevocably ecstatic over the prospect of being humored so easily. He was always beyond grateful for Charles’s ability to tell between times he was up for discussion if pushed and times when it was best to leave it aside entirely.

Taking the bottle from him, Charles ran a hand down the center of his chest, over his stomach, down to put pressure at where his cock was already beginning to strain against the fabric. Erik had to bite back a sound, pushing up into his hand.

“Anything other requests?” Charles teased, rubbing the pads of his fingers against him, small, slow circles already blurring Erik’s thoughts.

“I’m not in a very patient mood today,” Erik forced out, hearing the desperation in his own voice and doing his best to not mind it.

“I can see that,” Charles purred. “Lie back then, if you would, and I’ll get to it.”

Charles was true to his word and didn’t waste time. He was deft with his movements and well-practiced in this as he had demonstrated several times before, and he had his fingers pressed inside of him sooner than Erik could have accomplished it on his own. For his part, Erik was rather content to slump back on the desk, keep his legs apart, and entreat Charles to continue. It wasn’t quite enough, but it was an immense relief already.

They were more practiced in this than they had been only a short while ago. Erik had never been against the physical reality of it, only nervous about what it meant. It required such complete trust and surrender to another person and that was not something Erik had managed for some time nor was it something that came naturally to him. However, with Charles, everything was different—a small shift in perspective like someone straightening a picture frame, but more than enough—and he’d thought he wanted to try. Both of them were out of practice, fallen into simpler, binary roles over the years. Luckily they had nothing but time to practice and improve, and improve they most certainly had, Erik thought dizzily, feeling Charles’s fingers ease him open.

It still made him self-conscious in some ways, lying completely exposed as he was, try to fight it as he might. He thought with time it might become easier, habit more than anything else, so that he could seem as comfortable as Charles did with it. For now, he focused on Charles’s hand, broad and strong on his waist and stroking up his side, rucking his shirt up further meanwhile, on his presence over top of him, and on the increasing ease with which he was moving his opposite hand.

Erik ground back against him helplessly, already tired of only fingers, wanting something more. It was still a foreign desire to him in many ways, the need for the stretch of this and the raw, slick friction that came afterwards. It was not so direct as stroking himself into hardness. This was a gradual heat like starting a fire, sparking slowly at the base of his spine and growing stronger up through his chest until he couldn’t bear it any longer. It was wanting all of Charles in a different way, he reasoned, part of wanting him in as many ways as he could have him.

Charles was merciful and took his cue, pulling back undo his own trousers, yet untouched. In some ways Erik liked the sight of him still fully dressed while he took him apart, although he knew that was not conducive to things moving forward. Rather than get in his way, Erik leaned back, pressing his head down against the hard, cool surface of his desk, and bore the wait. His skin prickled, too tight against his bones, and his cock throbbed where it laid full and heavy against his stomach. He reveled briefly in the obscenity of it all, and the danger of doing this in the middle of the day in his study of all places. It was beyond thrilling.

Without warning there was a pressure up against where he was newly and viscerally slick with the oil. Charles pressed one of his thighs up further and kept a firm hold on his skin when it was where he wanted it. “Ready?” Charles asked. There was no flush to his cheeks, as always, but what color was left in his eyes was incandescent.

“Yes,” Erik complained, moving restlessly. “If you would be so kind.”

Charles wasted no more time, pressing into him fully, moving until their hips were flush. Erik moaned, biting it back somewhat but unable to stop himself completely. Satisfaction washed over him in a wave even as his body worked to adjust a bit further to more comfortably handle the connection of their bodies. Charles made a strangled noise as well, shoving up further against him although there was nowhere else to go.

Erik had rarely felt something so intense which was entirely in pursuit of pleasure and it was doing an excellent job of dissipating the thoughts and worries that had been filling his mind earlier that day. It only improved when Charles straightened from where he’d been leaning down over Erik and began to move, pumping in and out of Erik in quick, sure strokes. He had always been talented in the movements of his hips and this was no exception.

Erik was taken immediately by how purposeful the thrusts were and by the strength behind them. He could feel the need propelling the other man forward, mutual desire existing between the two of them rather than this progressing due to Erik’s request alone. The thought made Erik’s heart flutter along quicker and had him raising his hips up as best he could for more.

Erik reached up with one hand to grasp onto Charles’s arm which he had placed with one palm flat on the desk and held on with the other, although he lost strength in his grip somewhat when Charles bent to thoroughly recapture his mouth. Everything fell away for some brief yet seemingly-endless stretch of time, leaving behind only Charles’s lips on his skin, and his thick cock inside of him, and his hand Erik’s own erection at some point, thumb sliding through the slickness at the tip, and his fingers digging into his hip, and the weight and sinuous movement of his body pressing him further down into the wood of the desktop, and his voice off and on in his ear, sometimes intelligible, murmuring compliments he was in no state to reject, sometimes not, quiet noises being urged from his chest, deep and hungry, and Charles, Charles, Charles—

Erik had no idea whatsoever how Charles remained coherent enough to even vaguely hint that he was close to orgasm when their positions were reversed. All he could ever seem to do was fall directly into it, pressed over the edge organically by Charles’s work and coming without much warning at all. Afterward he felt sore with relief and with Charles’s continued movements which went on for some indistinguishable amount of time before he too lost his hold on himself and followed after Erik, collapsing down over top of him, Erik’s name still on his lips.

Erik wrapped his arms around his back and held him tight, not quite willing to let him go yet even though he assumed both of them were uncomfortable with being bent over the desk as they were. Nonetheless, Charles made no complaint, only curled further into Erik and let Erik kiss along the very top of his forehead as if adorning him with an intangible crown. Slowly but surely as ever the overcast day seeped back in around them, muffled light from the mostly-closed curtains defining the surrounding space again, present time and reality reassembling itself before their eyes.

“Well, that was fun,” Charles said, half muffled where he was speaking into Erik’s shirt. He shuffled so he could look up at Erik, his eyes still saturated with his afterglow. “Do you feel sufficiently distracted?”

“Yes,” Erik said, dragging his hand up and down his back, dipping under the fabric of his shirt so he could feel at the broad planes and smooth skin there. “Excellent work.”

Charles laughed quietly, pressing a kiss against Erik’s shoulder. “I love you, you know.”

Erik was immediately bowled over by the small phrase, as much as he had been the first time and all the times between. He thought he would never get over how casually Charles said it, not that he minded the reassurance now and again. He was far too distracted to respond as a result. Luckily Charles didn’t seem to mind.

“I suppose you owe me now,” he continued, reaching up to thread his fingers through Erik’s hair, pushing it back from where some had fallen into his face. “Don’t you agree?”

“I suppose so.” Erik was not particularly concerned over being indebted to Charles since that was his constant state as it was. “Let me know when you would like the favor repaid.”

Charles beamed up at him for a moment before retreating into something between anxious and eager. “I had meant to visit you later today admittedly,” Charles informed him, “but as I’m already here, I suppose I can tell you now. It will save me a trip.”

Visits were not uncommon which meant Charles had something specific in mind that might distinguish it, drawing Erik’s curiosity at once. “What did you have to tell me?” He shifted uncomfortably, growing steadily more tired of being so completely spread out in more ways than one.

Charles caught on quickly enough and pulled back, allowing the two of them to right themselves before he spoke again. Erik moved to tug his trousers back into place and regretted somewhat the ache already forming in his back where the wood had been digging into it. He thought that next time he could spare enough patience to move them over to the couch at least.

Having again achieved something like a presentable demeanor, Erik sat up on the edge of his desk and waited for Charles to reveal to him whatever it was he had to say. Rather than speak however, the other man only leaned toward him again, placing his hands on either side of Erik’s thighs and pressing his forehead against his shoulder.

“It’s good to see you looking forward to something even when you do not know what it is,” he murmured.

Erik hadn’t been thinking of it consciously but he supposed he had fallen into the habit of looking forward to any time Charles chose to tell him something. He shrugged, attempting to chase some of the more obvious emotion from his face. “I’m in a good mood,” he gave as explanation.

Charles was still smiling, a small, knowing curve of his lips when he straightened once more. “Aha. Well, I do think it might be good news. I have been thinking some on your predicament. I know it’s your decision to make but it has had you in its grip for some time now and I couldn’t help but ponder it too.”

Erik forced himself to nod, not glad to be back on the topic so soon even if he did wonder what Charles had thought up now.

“I’ve had an idea,” Charles told him, “and I’m not sure whether or not you will take to it. Still, I think it would be worth considering.”

“Alright.” Erik didn’t see what other choice between agreement or dismissal there was, but it was not surprising that Charles would be the one of the two of them to think it up. “Go on.”

Charles took a breath and began. “I know that you do wish to go and help with the organization, at least in part, and that you also wish to stay here. I thought, then, if there was a way to do both perhaps it could solve things.”

Erik frowned. “Charles, I don’t—”

“Let me finish,” Charles complained. “You truly are impatient today. The thrust of it is, you are in possession of this grand castle which is not being used to its full potential in the least. You have told me before that the Brotherhood is growing steadily and I imagine it must soon branch out or run out of space. Would it not make logical sense to solve the two problems at once? What if you were to offer up the manor as space for a new branch? That way the place would no longer be so lonely or in disuse and you could remain here to look after it as much as you wish.”

Erik didn’t say anything for some time as his mind turned the idea over. He hadn’t thought to consider such a thing, although now that the idea was before him he could see the logic easily enough. In many ways it seemed too simple and others far too complicated. Still, unlike with his previous choices, Erik did not feel the need to shrink back so immediately from the option, did not hear an overwhelming, dissenting chorus rallying against it for one reason or another.

There would be many variables to consider—including the idea of handing over his home to some indeterminate number of irresponsible, yet-untaught pups—but for now Erik could only feel as though he had been staring out a dirty, foggy window only for Charles to come along and swing it wide open for him with little effort at all.

“So?” Charles inquired, his expression having grown more nervous during the pause even if his words did not show it. “Is it not a wonderful solution?”

“It’s certainly interesting,” Erik agreed, warming to it more quickly than he would have thought. “I do not know if they would agree to it.”

“There’s no harm in trying. I doubt they would decline such a generous offer. Furthermore, if you own the house you can do as much or as little to help as you want, seeing how that is already your primary task.” Charles smiled hopefully at him. “It is selfish, as I’m sure you can tell. It would keep you here first and foremost, which I am not so sure you want.”

Erik was not so sure that was what he wanted either, but he thought—or knew, truthfully—that he was not quite ready to break free from this place once and for all. This could very well be an intermediate step. If the castle was occupied it would at least be better kept up for everyone’s sake, a task which he knew he would only grow less able to accomplish on his own as the years passed. It seemed Charles had sought out the exact middle ground for all of his worries somehow. Erik marveled, as he often did, at his intelligence.

“What I want first and foremost is that we are together,” Erik told him, moving to set his hand on top of Charles’s, squeezing around his fingers. The slight touch made something stir inside of him as he recalled just where those fingers had been less than half an hour ago. A thought crossed his mind. “What of you?”

“What of me?” Charles asked, turning his palm over so it was up and open for Erik to hold properly.

“What would we say of your staying here? I suspect they would want me to dismiss my current staff.” That was another unfortunate reality to have to face with this option, but he would deal with it later. As settled as those in his employ were, he thought they might also be better off if they sought a more ordinary position.

Charles hummed. “Just say I am your cousin.”

Erik gave him a dubious look.

“What? If cousin makes you uncomfortable, say I’m some other distant relation who stays at the castle and works in the garden on occasion in exchange for my lodgings. Because I’m family I will know full well of your condition and will be used to it.”

Erik sighed, supposing that would be enough of an excuse. He only wanted to insure Charles’s safety and comfort was not being infringed upon because of this. A whim crossed his mind as well and he went along with it easily enough, leaning up to press his mouth under Charles’s jaw. “And what will they think when they catch sight of you coming in and out of my room morning and night?”

Charles huffed at him. “You complain at the suggestion but now make it worse of your own accord—” He cut off with a squeak when Erik wrapped his arms tightly around him and tugged him on top of the desk with him, lying back and taking the other man with him. “Erik!”

Erik laughed, more interested in the feeling of Charles’s weight upon him again than anything else. “I was only kidding.”

“You’re incorrigible today,” Charles complained, squirming against him but not making any true effort to get back up. He did not keep it up long, sinking down into Erik again soon after and then he could see intent blue again. “You like the idea then?”

“Yes,” Erik assured him. “Come up here so I might show you.”

Charles went even as he complained—“It would be easier if you were not so intent on keeping us only on this damned desk of yours…”—and Erik kissed him deeply, taking in again the sweet, familiar taste of him, hoping once more that Charles might understand his feelings more completely if he turned them into action.

“Thank you,” Erik told him when he at last managed to pull back. “It’s not something I believe I would have thought of alone and I believe it will put my mind more at ease in the coming days.”

Charles pecked him again on the lips. “I am glad to hear of it.”

What he had said was true, Erik realized, some pressure having been taken off of him. Things were much easier, as he was being shown again and again, with two minds working as one to solve even a simple issue. It was a new experience for Erik to work alongside someone else and he was not yet practiced in asking for help. Fortunately it seemed Charles was willing to offer it anyway.

It was not a sunny day in the least, the season growing old and time pushing ahead as always, but Erik felt strangely warm. Part of him hoped that he would never forget what this lack of loneliness felt like, the realization of support, even as he already felt himself losing track of the feeling in his mind. Charles was better in many ways at moving forward than he was, but he was slowly learning.

It involved setting up plans to make the future more than tolerable or even something to look forward to. And he was, Erik realized, odd as it seemed, looking forward to it. It would have seemed impossible less than a year ago, but Erik thought that this old castle, this familiar home of his, might see growth and joy and life outside the garden at last.

“You do know this means you owe me _two_ favors now rather than one,” said the reason that such an incredible thing was true, smiling proudly up at him. “I’ll not have you forgetting.”

Erik couldn’t help but return the gesture, holding Charles more tightly to him than before. “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus double super extra secret unlockable titles/summaries: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> 1\. love bites  
> 2\. who(?) we do in the shadows  
> 3\. “it was a dark and stormy night…”  
> 4\. jane eyre/twilight rip off which actually resembles neither jane eyre nor twilight  
> 5\. why suck his blood when you can suck his dick, the fic


	14. Epilogue

“Erik,” Charles called. “What are you doing out here?”

Erik looked up from where he’d been observing the jimsonweed plant which had lasted the winter well and he thought would now begin to bloom more regularly and fully each night, blossoms like stars tethered to the ground, opening for him and everyone else to enjoy once more.

“I was checking on the plants,” Erik lied.

Charles was not so easy to fool. “Are you certain you’re not attempting to further procrastinate our departure?”

Erik turned back toward the flower.

He heard Charles sigh and approach him, setting a conservative hand upon his shoulder which Erik took to be more because they were outside, the spring air pleasant enough despite the earlier hour, than desire for formality. “It is only for a week. The castle will be in good hands. They cannot possibly burn the place down that quickly.”

Erik knew he was right, although part of him still loathed to leave at all, paranoid after so many years of being its primary watchman to leave it behind for more than a night. However, they had been mapping out this trip for some time now, beginning mid-winter when Erik found that despite the influx of voices and activity around the manor he still felt restless. Nerves or no nerves, he was excited to go, and particularly excited to go with Charles. Time to themselves was not as easy to come by as it once had been with a seemingly endless supply of children running about, possessing no manners at all nor predisposition to knock, and time where they were entirely alone was nonexistent.

Erik did not hate it as much as he sometimes pretended to. The Brotherhood had been more than happy to accept his offer of the use of his home as another space for schooling and lodging, and it had since been transformed entirely by its new purpose. They had taken the opportunity to split their organization into age groups, and as the castle was much more isolated, with plenty of room to run about and less chance of anyone stumbling across it, they had ended up with the pups along with an assortment of adults acting as teachers. (Logan included, much to his and Erik’s mutual chagrin, although that did mean that there was altogether more frequent occasion for the two of them and Ororo to get together and get stupidly drunk on wine now and again.) Chaotic and frustrating as it was, Erik could not bring himself to dislike it totally.

He had been forced to relocate his previous staff which was not so pleasant a venture although he thought it was for the best. He’d helped them on their way to new positions as best he could, drawing on the Brotherhood’s resources somewhat as well, and he knew they would be altogether safer there. It was a somber day when they departed, but they certainly hadn’t signed up to look after a house full of nearing fifty children who could change into wolves at the drop of a hat. In the grand scheme of things it was a small change amongst so many others.

Charles was otherwise beyond thrilled with the situation, eager to help and guide the children in a way Erik had not expected. It seemed that he was excellent at the care and keeping of life in all forms. Erik admired him greatly for it. They were cautious and as smart as possible with their less platonic interactions, and because of it, as it turned out, no one much minded Charles’s presence, particularly due to how willing he was to lend a hand and how well the children took to him. Erik often thought the other man was far more valuable to the Brotherhood than he was.

“I know,” Erik replied. After all, after the rush of disorder in the fall, blowing in through the halls of the castle like the cooler autumn winds, everything had settled in time, something like peace and a more concrete routine coming to rest over the manor along with several layers of fresh snow in mid-November.

The routine was beneficial for the children—as was the snow which they were often far more interested in than any sort of lesson someone might be attempting to give to them, crowding around the windows to look out longingly at it, especially the youngest ones—but not as much for Erik who had begun to feel that same itch in his bones that he got now and again during particularly heavy storms. It urged him to move on, to not stand still, and it mostly manifested in increasing pacing about the halls and up and down flights of stairs if he was to believe Charles’s accusations.

The idea of travel had again come into play and at last the day had arrived for the two of them to leave, headed south for a week together. Erik thought he ought to focus on that part rather than on everything else and it did help. One last look at the flowers and he turned back to Charles with more certainty.

Charles smiled at him, patient as ever and far too handsome in the pale light of the dawn. He would throw the hood of his cloak up soon enough but for now he left it down, allowed the blooming rose of the sunrise skirt along the soft edges of his cheeks. Erik felt reckless enough to put his arm around Charles’s shoulders, pulling him closer than was perhaps entirely necessary.

Charles capitulated nonetheless and turned to look up at the castle rising before them. Erik followed his gaze. Soon, Erik knew, it would be full of the noise of the children waking up and stampeding down toward the dining room for breakfast. Life here would go on without him, he knew. It would be alright.

“Are you ready?” Charles asked, turning to look up toward him instead.

The sun was rising steadily behind them, spilling out over the garden, so Erik moved to pull his hood up to shade him from it. “Yes,” he said, “I am.”

“It’s normal to be nervous you know,” Charles told him, taking on what had become a more familiar, didactic tone over the past few months, mostly used for telling the children not to play with the antiques around the castle and occasionally to tell Erik of something he already ought to have known. “If you are not nervous, then you know you are not attempting something new, and if you are not attempting something new then no real change can ever occur.”

Erik knew he had a point, and knew that well enough himself. Hearing it aloud did help to settle him somewhat and he leaned down to press a brief, audacious kiss to Charles’s temple, unable to help himself. “It is too early for philosophizing.”

“It is never too early for philosophizing. You ought to get used to it. We have a long journey to go and I have many other wise things to tell you along the way.”

“Do you?”

“I suppose you may not notice the difference,” Charles said, suddenly ponderous. “After all, everything I say is very wise.”

Erik pinched at his arm. It only caused him to laugh, chiming in alongside the birdsong around them and the otherwise quiet morning, and pull away from him, stepping back a few feet. The distance did not last, however, for soon Charles was holding out his hand to him.

“Say one last goodbye to the flowers,” he entreated, “so that we may be off.”

Erik reached out to take his hand rather than comply, not much interested in farewells that morning. Instead, he nodded at Charles and allowed himself to be led forward, out from the shadow of the castle and the intoxicating languor of the garden into the start of another day toward something entirely new.


End file.
